No Light
by Lydia Belle
Summary: With Morgause's death much sooner than anticipated Morgana is left alone without a plan, and a secret that leaves her reeling. Alone and confused she is hunted by Arthur and the knights, to be brought forth to the king before his untimely demise. Redemption? Or was she ever guilty in the first place?
1. Chapter 1

**Third Person's Point of View**

"You're going to be alright, I'll take care of you." Morgana stroked her sister's long golden hair, smoothing it away from her face.

"Don't be silly. We both know, it's done." Morgause murmured, smiling sadly up at her.

She shook her head, her blue-green eyes narrowed. "No. I won't let you go."

"You don't have a choice." She squeezed her hand weakly, "We will be together again. Just remember, I did what I thought was best for you."

Morgana frowned, "What do you mean?"

"It will be clear."

Her sister relaxed back, and Morgana stood, pulling the coarse blanket up around her shoulders.

She knew Morgause was right, the damage was done.

In less than a day she would be dead, and she'd be alone once again.

For now she would keep her comfortable, or as comfortable as she could be in the tiny home she'd acquired.

A hovel really, built into the side of a rock wall completely hidden from view.

Morgause had constructed it and shown it to her a few times before, though it had been much tidier.

When she'd escaped in a whirlwind of smoke and magic from the throne room of Camelot Morgana had brought them to the only place she could think of where they'd be safe.

From there she'd gotten her onto the small cot in the corner and ransacked every shelf and every cupboard searching for a way to heal her mortally wounded sister.

But her efforts were fruitless, and now she was here, watching her sister slowly die.

Morgana ran her hands over her face, pushing back the tears.

There would be no crying, she had done enough of that in her life.

With a sigh she tied her long black waves back with a leather string, her hands shaking.

"Stop." She commanded herself, angrily grabbing her black cloak from the chair by the dim fire.

She swung it around her shoulders and secured it over the red dress she still wore, lifting a small basket from the table.

With one last glance at her sister she walked from the hovel, quietly shutting the door behind her.

* * *

Arthur's first day on the throne had grown increasingly awkward and stressful as it went on, and Merlin's irritating shuffling and mumbles were just making it worse.

"Merlin." He smacked his hand on the armrest and his friend startled.

"Yes, sire?"

"What exactly is wrong with you?"

Merlin's eyes darted about and he shrugged, wringing his wrists. "Nothing sire."

Arthur stared him down, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.

"I'm just, worried."

"About?"

"Morgana. What if she comes back?"

He looked away, drumming his fingers against the polished wood.

"Why would she? There is nothing here for her any longer. Morgause is most likely dead, she has turned on everyone in Camelot, and father would have her executed should she return."

"Don't you mean you?"

"What?"

"Sire, you are the regent king. Should she return, you would be responsible for her fate."

Arthur sat back, eyes glazed.

He knew Merlin was right; he was the ruler of his people now, of Camelot.

"What am I meant to do?" he murmured.

"Arthur?"

"She's, Morgana. I've known her practically my whole life, how could she do this to me? To us? I've always known she resented father for the things he's done, but he is my -" he broke off, rubbing irritably at his jaw. "Our father. How could she side against us, with Morgause?"

Merlin's mind was racing, his pulse pounding.

The guilt was gnawing at his insides, tearing at his heart and screaming at him to tell Arthur the truth.

That everything was his fault, that he was the only one responsible for Morgana's betrayal.

He had poisoned her, he had kept his magic a secret from her, and he had allowed her to believe Morgause was the only person she had to turn to.

"Arthur I -"

"My king." The heavy wooden doors to the throne room swung open and Arthur sat up, clearing his throat.

"Sir Leon." He greeted the cloaked knight as he respectfully kneeled before him. "Rise."

"Sire, king Uther is asking for you to speak with him in his chambers."

Arthur stood, eyes widened. "He's awake?"

"Yes my lord."

Without a word he rushed from the throne room, Merlin close at his heels.

Guards were strewn about the hall, bowing at the waist to him as he passed by.

His father's door was open and the glow of the torches on the wall flickered about, casting shadows.

Gaius stood at his father's side, gently feeling his forehead.

Uther knocked his hand away weakly as his son entered his chambers, smiling as best he could.

"Arthur."

"Father." He took a seat by his bed, grasping his fingers with his own. "How are you feeling?"

"Better, my son. But am I sad to say my days are numbered, and I require something of you."

"Anything father."

"Find Morgana. Bring her to me."

Arthur leaned back in surprise; he hadn't expected such a request.

"Father-"

"I know what you believe of your sister, Arthur. But I am to die, and soon. All I want now is to explain things to her, to show her why I have done what I have done."

He shook his head, unsure of what exactly he was supposed to say.

"She betrayed you," he started, shaking his head with uncertainty and anger. "why would you want her here again? All she has done is hurt us and our people, she has no right-"

"She is my daughter and your sister!" a bit of the old king peeked through as he struggled to sit up, his tone firm. "You will do as I say, and bring her to me."

Arthur stood and nodded curtly, "Yes father."

Merlin watched on with concern as he rushed from the room, his shoulders stiff.

Uther collapsed back against his pillows, exhausted as Gaius returned to his side.

"I can't understand," he mumbled. "Why, why must I do this to those I love?"

"It's in our nature sire. People make mistakes." Gaius soothed.

"I am king. Am I not supposed to be better than this?"

He shook his head, turning to the table where he had prepared a sleeping draught to help him rest.

"You've only acted in the best interests of your children sire. You are a good father, and a good king." He helped him to swallow the contents of the clear vial, helping him to settle back into the bed.

Merlin accompanied his mentor as they walked from the king's chambers to theirs, silent.

"You seem quiet." Gaius mused as he shut the door behind them, placing the empty vial into a wash basin.

"Really? I hadn't noticed." He shook his head at his young charge, sitting with a groan at the small table.

"Merlin, what is it?"

He sighed, taking a seat across from him. "The guilt Gaius, it's eating me alive. I did this! All of it, I poisoned Morgana and I made her the way she is. I'm the reason she turned against Camelot, against Arthur," he paused, rubbing his head angrily. "against me."

Gaius frowned and reached across the table, touching his hand gently. "Merlin, Morgana was on a path of darkness from the moment she was born. I could sense it in her. Uther's hatred for magic only helped to strengthen it; there was nothing you could have done."

"I don't believe that." He objected, pulling away abruptly. "If I had shown her my magic, it wouldn't have been so easy for her to choose Morgause."

"You could not risk exposing yourself! What if she had gone to Uther?"

"She despised what he was doing to the people with magic, to the druids; she never would have betrayed me. I should have had more faith in her as she did me. I could have saved her."

Gaius was somber as Merlin closed his eyes, leaning his head into his hands.

"Guilt can be powerful Merlin. It can break us, and if you think there is something you can do to make your peace with it than I advise you to."

"What are you talking about?"

"When Morgana is brought back-"

"And you believe she will be?" Gaius shrugged, smiling softly.

"I have much faith in the young prince, he has never failed before."

Merlin sighed, "I know."

"If you think it would ease your mind, perhaps you should see if there is anything redeemable in Morgana. I myself have doubts, but you seem determined and I'm afraid if I don't say anything to help you along you'll do it on your own in a much more destructive way."

He laughed, rolling his eyes. "When have I ever disobeyed?"

Gaius raised a thick eyebrow and stood from his chair, making his way to his cot.

"Whatever you decide, I will stand by you. Now get some rest."

* * *

Morgana's cloak caught in a thorn bush and she huffed, tugging at the thick material.

The basket in her hands had grown heavy with the flowers and foods she'd collected and she set it down beside her.

Her hovel was only a few paces away and she was eager to get back to her sister, to be there for her in her last hours.

She hadn't intended on being out as long as she was, and it had grown dark.

Having successfully pulled her cloak from the thorns she noted with a sigh that she'd have to repair the tear in the hem at some point, and continued on into the hovel.

The door pushed in silently and she set the basket on the table.

Her eyes glowed dimly as she set the candles to light, moving towards her sister's side.

Morgause's breaths were shallow, her forehead crinkled with pain as she let out a low whimper.

"Sister." Morgana whispered.

She lifted a cloth from the bucket by the bed, wringing it out before touching it to her cheeks in an effort to cool her blazing skin.

Her eyes flickered and opened, her dark brown gaze catching onto her.

"Morgana."

She shook her head, touching a finger to her lips. "Don't speak; I see how it pains you so."

Morgause lifted a hand, weakly pushing her away. "I must."

Morgana nodded and continued to dab the cloth to her flesh, listening closely.

"When I was a little girl, our mother told me of you."

She recoiled in shock, she had never known much of her mother, and had truly never had the urge to.

"She said, when you were born, you howled like a wild dog, and she knew you would be trouble."

Morgause laughed a little, though it quickly turned to a wet cough.

Tears stung at the back of her eyes and Morgana smiled, stroking her cheek.

"When Ygraine died, Uther went into a mad rage of grief and anguish. He killed everything in sight, and he knew mother had magic. She fled with me, to the Isle of the Blessed. Gaius helped us there. We had no choice but to leave you behind. I was only three, and you were one."

She shook her head, "I don't understand."

"She watched sometimes, in the reflection of the water. She'd conjure your images, and see how you fared. It pained her so that she couldn't be with you, though she planned to reunite with you again. But when father died, she did as well. The pain in her heart was too much, and she succumbed to it. She told me her tryst with Uther had meant nothing, that she had been lonely. And I will never be gladder for it, because it means I have you beside me."

Morgana nodded, finally succumbing to her emotions as her tears spilled down her cheeks.

"I love you sister, I'm sorry I am not strong enough to save you."

"We all die someday. Today is my day, to go on to Avalon. Where I shall greet our mother and father, and live on until I am to see you again." She gave a genuine smile. "Please don't be angry with me. I thought I was doing what was best."

She frowned, confused yet again. "You said that before. What don't I know?"

"It doesn't matter, you will soon." She closed her eyes, drifting off into an uneasy sleep.

Morgana stood and wiped at her eyes, placing the cloth back into the bucket.

Morgause's story had drained her, and her comments afterward had puzzled her.

As she tidied up and uncoiled the leather string from her hair – using it instead to bunch together wild flowers she'd collected – she thought on her words.

She'd asked her not to be angry, but at what?

Shaking her head she lifted a heavy pot onto the dying fire, poking at it until it stirred and revived.

She poured water from a bucket into it, adding in the vegetables she'd stolen and allowing it to sit until it bubbled and boiled into a thick broth.

Satisfied she moved the pot away and poured herself a small bowl, sipping from it delicately.

Her lifestyle had raised her with refined manners, and she was no more used to using her hands than she was to cleaning a home, but in only a few days of her self-adhered banishing she'd found herself doing both.

Arthur came to the forefront of her mind suddenly, and she remembered when he'd turned his nose up at the meal Merlin's mother had offered them.

She almost laughed at the thought of him trying to take care of himself as she was, but in a wave of anger she was confronted with the image of him standing by as Uther gripped her throat.

Morgana shook her head and found with dismay that she'd dropped her bowl, and the broth had spilled out across the stone floor.

Huffing she stooped down to clean her mess, when she heard Morgause inhale sharply.

Stumbling over to her bedside, the broth forgotten, she grasped her hands.

"It's time." She whispered.

"No." Morgana cried, "I thought I was ready, but I'm not. I can't lose you; you're all that I have."

"No. You are never alone."

Her sister's chest heaved once, and her eyes closed, her body still.

"No." she whimpered, her forehead resting against hers. "Don't leave me."

_You are never alone_

Suddenly it was as if a light had gone out, and everything was dark.

"_Morgana?"_

"_I hope you can forgive me."_

"_Teine diaga."_

"_She won't remember any of this."_

"_M__andrake root can be cruel."_

"_I'm here."_

"_You are never alone."_

* * *

**so ive been having some writers block issues with my story The Lost One and recently i've had a bit of an obsession with Merlin and honestly, from season 4 onward i was really pissed at how everything went. especially morgana's death. so i thought i'd make my own retelling. give it a shot and leave some positive feedback and constructive critisizm. but no meannies k? **_  
_


	2. Chapter 2

**Flashback**

_Morgause looped an arm around her sister's waist, guiding her through the low doorway._

"_How could he do this to me?" Morgana whimpered, her hand pressed painfully to her stomach. _

"_Men are cruel; they act only in their best interest."_

"_He was my friend. I trusted him."_

_She helped her to sit on the small cot, frowning pitifully down at her._

"_That is a mistake you surely won't make again. Get some rest, I'll be back soon with some supper."_

_Morgana nodded, gingerly swinging her legs up onto the bed._

_She was in a dark room, completely closed off from the rest of the world._

_The only light offered to her was a torch on the far wall, burning out. _

_She gazed around the room suspiciously; there wasn't much of anything in it beside the cot she was resting upon._

_A light tapping distracted her and she swung about, eyes narrowed._

_Something cold and wet dropped onto her hand and she smeared it with a finger, staring at it in the increasingly dim light. _

_It was dark, blood?_

_She looked up nervously, and gasped sharply at the dirt covered plants littering the ceiling. _

_Hanging in every space was mandrake root, dripping some kind of black liquid all around her._

"_What is this? Morgause!" she cried, stumbling towards the door. _

_Her fingers wrapped around the handle to the door and she pushed, finding with astonishment that it stuck._

_She shoved at it weakly, alarmed. "Let me out!"_

_Her sister didn't so much as acknowledge her and she growled, slamming her fist against the wall._

_She turned back to face the room, inching along the wall with her hands outstretched, feeling for any cracks or hidden doorways. _

_Slowly but surely she made her way around the room, twice, without anything to show for it._

_It was solid, no cracks no fissures, no way out._

_Her heart was pounding and she sunk slowly to the floor, drawing her knees to her chest. _

_The torch fizzed and popped before abruptly dying out, leaving her in the middle of the blackness._

* * *

"_You are nothing, you are worth nothing."_

"_No, you're wrong!"_

"_You are a disgusting creature of magic, a disgrace! My own ward, a witch. I will have you burnt at the stake." Uther hissed, storming towards her._

"_Shut up!"_

"_He's right you know."_

_Morgana whirled around, the tattered skirts of her gown brushing about her bare feet._

"_Arthur?"_

"_You are filth."_

"_No. You're my friend, you love me!"_

"_How could I love something like you? It was a façade, an act, pretend. You aren't worthy of love."_

"_Please, just stop. Leave me alone!"_

"_Morgana."_

_Her maid stood smiling sweetly before her, shaking her head slowly._

"_Guinevere?" _

"_You are a monster. You don't belong on this earth, you're a dishonor to all of Camelot."_

"_And I'm glad I poisoned you."_

_She closed her eyes, refusing to look upon him. _

_The boy she'd called her friend, who she had grown so close to in so little time. _

"_Merlin." _

"_You deserved death; I'm only disappointed I couldn't give it to you sooner."_

* * *

"_Teine diaga. It will erase all doubts in her mind on whose side she'll be." Morgause's voice was soft as she peered through the iron bars, gazing at the bent form of her sister._

_Morgana had left the cot and was crumpled against the wall, lying under the burnt out torch._

_The mandrake root had taken effect, she'd heard her pleading screams the moment they'd started. _

_It broke her heart to hear her tortured so, but she knew it was necessary. _

"_And she will never stray?"_

"_Never."_

_Cenred tilted his head, confused. "But she knows this is your doing, she will not turn on you?"_

"_No. Once I take her from that room and seal our bond, she won't remember any of this. It will seem as if it was all a dream, but the terrors will stay with her. When she tries to think of anything good of those in Camelot she will be confronted with the horrors she's seen. Mandrake root can be cruel." _

_He nodded, seemingly satisfied with her assurances._

"_Very well then. I will be dining if you care to join me." _

_The King Cenred left swiftly up the stairs, leaving Morgause to stare worriedly into the dark room. _

"_I hope you can forgive me."_

* * *

_It had been so long since she'd spoken to or seen anyone who hadn't taunted her, called her names, or tortured her with their sharp words. _

_She'd been alone longer than she cared to remember, only receiving food and drink through a slot at the bottom of the door._

_Her head was aching, and she craved the touch of a kind soul._

_The room had grown increasingly colder, and all she had for warmth was a scraggly blanket made of rough material that chafed her skin. _

_She craved her chambers back in Camelot, with her soft sheets and comfortable bed. _

_But she knew now, there was no one who cared for her there any longer. _

_All of them, they just wanted to see her dead or suffering, she would never again be taken in by their fine words or kind mannerisms. _

_It was an act, a play they put on for their own amusement._

_The sound of the door creaking open startled her and Morgana shivered, pressing further into the wall._

"_Morgana?"_

_She looked up at her sister's voice, her head rising from her hands. "Morgause?"_

"_I'm here." She crouched in front of her, smiling kindly. "It's alright."_

"_You don't understand, they're screaming at me! Calling me these horrible names, taunting me! I can't listen to it any longer, I just want to be out of here."_

_Her sister soothed her with a hand to her hair, pulling her close into a warm embrace. _

"_Don't worry, I'm here for you. It's over now, you're going to be fine."_

"_I don't want to be alone anymore." She whimpered into her shoulder, hot tears blazing down her porcelain skin. _

_Morgause pulled back, cradling her face in her hands. "You are never alone."_

**End Flashback**

* * *

The regent king and his servant rode side by side, the barrage of knights a ways behind as they scouted the area.

Merlin watched his friend with a worried gaze, taking in Arthur's locked jaw and stiff posture.

"You want to talk about it?"

"No." his reply was quick and sharp, but Merlin ignored it.

"You're sure?"

"Yes I'm sure, that's why I said no."

He shrugged, "Sometimes you don't say what you really mean."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what I said."

"And what did you say?"

"You know what I said."

"Enough. What do you mean by saying I don't always say what I mean?"

Merlin laughed, "Now I don't know what you mean."

Arthur groaned, pulling his stallion to a jerking halt and turning to block his path.

Merlin's horse squealed as it bumped into Arthur's, backing away nervously as he continued laughing.

"I just mean to say," he sent him a warning look. "that sometimes you don't like to express your true feelings."

"I express myself!" Arthur objected, moving back into a slow walk.

Merlin rolled his eyes but nodded.

"Fine, I admit sometimes I find it a bit difficult. It's just, father has me confused. Morgana betrayed all of us, she has magic, she sided with Morgause, and for god's sake she stole the throne of Camelot!"

"All good points."

"How can he want her back? His intentions don't seem to be to lock her up, he just wants to talk to her. She ordered guards to fire into a crowd of innocent citizens. The fact that he seems to want to reason with her is beyond me."

Arthur was quiet for a moment, the sounds of the forest filling the silence.

"Perhaps he believes she is redeemable." Merlin murmured, keeping his sight trained solely between his horse's two velvety black ears.

"Do you believe that?"

He shrugged, "I haven't known her as long as you have."

"She still saw you as a friend, or at least she did. I just, I don't understand anything about this. How she could've turned on us. She's always been so kind, so just. What could've happened to make her so capable of betrayal?"

Merlin was silent, the pounding hooves of the knight's mounts growing closer.

"Sire, I believe we may have found a trail." Sir Leon approached, stabbing his thumb in the direction they'd come from.

Arthur nodded and the two wheeled their horses about, urging them into a swift gait after him.

* * *

Morgana's head hurt, that was really all she could comprehend.

Her eyes flickered and opened, taking in the sight of the stone floor she was lying on.

A hand rose to her temple and she rubbed gently, wincing at the contact.

Gingerly she sat up, and was confronted by the sight of her sister's cold body.

Motionless and cold on the cot her eyes were closed, her hair stiff and grey in the dank light coming through the window.

Morgana sobbed once, a hand to her mouth.

All the thing she'd done, everything her sister had led her to do.

She'd killed innocents, those people in the crowd, the people she'd always spoken up against Uther to protect.

"How could you?" she whispered, barely acknowledging that she was speaking to a corpse. "How could you?!"

Her voice rose and she screamed in anguish, shaking her shoulders in fury.

Morgause's head lolled to the side and she dropped her back onto the bed, stumbling away.

Her hands found the table and she pushed it away, the plants she'd put in a vase flying towards the floor as the table tipped over.

The glass shattered and she fell forward onto her hands and knees, embedding it into her skin.

She didn't bother to cry out at the pain of it, all she could feel was the cold sting of betrayal.

Her sister had used her, wielded her like she would a sword.

_Please don't be angry with me._

_I thought I was doing what was best._

How could this have been for the best?

Leaving her alone to deal with the repercussions of what she'd done, unknowingly under the dark influence of her own sister.

None of these actions had been her own, yet she could never return to Camelot.

She didn't bother to clean the blood from her hands as she stood, wiping angrily at her tears.

Red smeared across her face in the process and she marched outside, cold in nothing but her dress.

She walked a few steps away from the hovel, just far enough that the sight of it was a blur.

Breathing shakily she put a hand out in front of her, the gold rising in her eyes.

Grass and dirt moved and lifted by her magic, crawling away, forming a deep hole in the ground low enough to be considered a grave.

* * *

"You think it's her?" Merlin asked from where he was astride his mount.

Arthur was crouched on the ground, gazing down at a few footprints in the damp earth.

He stood, giving an imperceptible shrug of his shoulders.

"Could be, it's worth a shot." He swung up into the saddle, a sense of new-found determination about him.

Merlin watched him cautiously.

"Are you alright?"

He glanced at him in question, sending his horse forward.

"I mean, how are you going to deal with seeing her again?"

Arthur sighed, "I'm just going to have to I suppose. I'll try and say as little to her as possible."

"Good tactic."

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

Merlin smiled and Arthur rolled his eyes, breaking forward into a trot.

A small clearing was nearing and they slowed, confusion coloring their faces.

"What's that?" a knight questioned.

Arthur's eyes darkened with realization, and he let out a sigh.

"It's a grave."

There was a penetrating silence, and everyone turned to the regent king.

"Morgause must be dead." Merlin suggested.

"Then we wait."

"Sire?"

"The grave is empty. She'll be back soon to bury her, we'll confront her then."

Arthur dismounted and walked his horse towards the cover of the trees, Merlin but a few small steps behind.

"Are you sure this is-"

"It's the only way Merlin. I understand burials are meant to be honored, but she has done too much. And I will not forsake such an opportunity to apprehend her."

He nodded as they tied their horses to a few low-lying branches, moving to the bushes to lie in wait.

"Arthur-"

"Quiet, she's coming."

The clearing grew still and eerily silent as Morgana came into view, dragging Morgause's body wrapped in blankets and tied with bundles of cloth.

What was more startling was Morgana, her face streaked with blood.

* * *

**hello, so first of all i wanted to say thanks for all of the lovely reviews i love them so mush. secondly, dont get too comfortable, i never update this fast usually. this is new story syndrome. haha anyways, i just wanted to say i hope you like, i know its short but i wanted the next chapter to be more explosive lets hope i dont dissapoint. thanks to all who read leave me reviews plz! **


	3. Chapter 3

**Third Person's Point of View**

Morgause's corpse dropped with a sickening thud into the freshly dug grave, her sister standing morosely above.

Her clear blue-green eyes were dry, and her slender hands were clenched into fists, though blood dripped from the tips of her fingers.

Arthur watched as she dropped to the ground, gingerly folding in on herself.

Her red velvet dressed pooled around her and she began to laugh, her chest aching with the weight of her sins.

The knights shifted awkwardly from their crouched positions in the bushes, curious and anxious as to why their king hadn't given the signal.

"I was so foolish, to believe that anyone could ever truly love me."

Her voice broke the silence and Arthur's breath caught in his throat, surprised at the vulnerability in her voice.

"How could anyone love a monster? I was so foolish to believe I was ever safe, ever cared for, my own father…" she grimaced at the words, still unwilling to even consider the king as the man who'd given her life.

Gorlois was her father, forever and always.

His memory counted for more than Uther had as a father-figure for most of her life.

All those years he had treated her as his precious ward, when she should have been treated as his beloved daughter and princess of Camelot.

But no, perhaps he had seen the dark in her before anyone else.

Perhaps he had known what a monumental disappointment she would become, and he'd simply done what was best for his kingdom and protected them from her before she'd even been considered a threat.

"He couldn't even admit I was his mistake. I thought, I thought I could trust you. You were my sister, how could I not?"

The forest around them was quiet, void of any and all creatures.

She was alone, so very alone, as she always had been.

Her hands and knees stung horribly but she pushed the feeling to the back of her mind, focused on the pointless task at hand.

Through her tired gaze she focused on the rough blankets her sister's body was wrapped in, her mind running wild with all that she wished to say to her.

But it didn't matter, she was dead, unable to hear her words.

"You asked that I forgive you, but I don't think I can. I've spent my life here defending the people of Camelot from Uther, trying to protect them and you had me kill them. I would have been a good queen but you ruined that for me, with your lies and your manipulation."

Her breathing was growing shaky and she paused, pressing a fist to her chest.

"I remember what you said to me, when you freed me from the cellar under Cenred's castle. You said that I am never alone. But I am, and what's worse is that it's because of you. You led me to believe I had no one but you at my side, when it wasn't true. I had Arthur and Gwen and the people of Camelot, and now, because of you... I truly do have no one."

She stood, gathering her skirts in her hand as she stumbled sideways.

Her head was dizzy but she ignored the feeling, steadying herself as her eyes grew gold.

In agonizingly slow motion the dirt spilled into the hole, ridding her of the burden that had become Morgause.

"Goodbye my sister. I dread the day we come to meet again."

As the magic dimmed and her eyes returned to their normal shade Arthur stood and walked into her line of vision.

The edges of his body were blurred and she smiled, forcing herself to stand straight.

"Brother." She murmured.

Merlin appeared at his side and the knights circled around her, keeping a wary eye on the high priestess' grave.

"I see you've brought company."

"I've come to return you to Camelot, where the king has commanded your presence."

Morgana nodded and winced, the motion sending her head spinning. "I see."

Arthur approached slowly, taking in the blank look of her eyes and the matted state of her black hair.

The hem of her dress was torn and blood was splashed across her skin, giving her a perpetually terrifying appearance.

Merlin moved forward as well, noticing with concern that she'd started violently shaking.

"What is it he wants from me? My head?" she simpered, her expression cold.

She wanted nothing more than to cry into his embrace, to explain everything that had happened.

To tell the truth and make it right with the only family she had ever known.

She knew though, with everything she had done to the people in Camelot she didn't deserve redemption; she deserved to be brought before the king and executed for what she had done.

If she'd been stronger, she would have been able to fight against Morgause's control.

But after the poisoning everything had happened so fast, so suddenly it had left her head spinning and there'd been no time to confront her sister.

All thoughts of the spell placed on Camelot and her part as the vessel had left her mind the moment she'd been thrown to the mandrake root, left to her tortured dreams.

It didn't matter though, in one way or another it had been her fault, her hand that came down and commanded the deaths of the citizens in the square and all the soldiers who had given their lives to fight against her.

"He wants to speak with you, as well as place judgment on your actions."

"Sounds reasonable." She shrugged.

Her mind was reeling, the realization of her imminent death broaching on hysteria.

"I don't, feel very well…" Morgana suddenly whispered, her gaze abruptly focusing on Merlin.

He'd barely taken a step when she fell, his arms coming to catch her as she sunk towards the ground.

Arthur knelt down beside them and lifted her hands, taking in the glass wedged into her bloodied palms.

"She's hurt." Merlin said dumbly, looking away at Arthur's piercing gaze.

"No really Merlin? I hadn't noticed what with her fainting and all."

He thumped him on the back of the head and shifted Morgana into his arms, her head lolling to rest on his chest.

"Tie her wrists." Arthur said, gesturing for Percival to come forward with the rope.

Merlin nodded, albeit reluctantly, and bound her wrists in front of her.

"Should we remove the glass?" he glanced up, surprised to see him looking somewhat concerned for her.

He shook his head, "No. Gaius will treat her, we don't have anything to bind the wounds here."

Arthur nodded and strode towards his mount, keeping his sister held firmly in his arms.

"Sire, would you like one of us to take her?" he turned as Sir Leon strode forward, his gaze flicking towards Morgana.

"I can handle her myself." He said resolutely, gesturing for Merlin to help him.

As he took the lady back into his arms, allowing him a moment to swing himself into the saddle, Merlin looked at her face.

Streaked with blood and somewhat bruised she was still beautiful.

Though while it had once been a classic beauty it was now tragic, ruined by her betrayal.

His thoughts quickly drifted though, from her beauty to the things she had spat at her sister's corpse.

He had to wonder what she'd meant when she'd spoken in the clearing.

Her words were full of anger and hate, and surprisingly it had all been directed towards Morgause.

"Merlin." He was startled out of his musings, and looked up to see Arthur staring down at him expectantly.

"Right." He helped him sit Morgana up on his horse, Storm, her body limp.

Arthur placed an arm around her waist and took the reins in hand, nudging forward as Merlin hurried to catch up.

The knights mounted as well and rode ahead, scouting their journey back.

Merlin nudged the gelding he rode into a brisk trot as he reached his friend's side.

Morgana's eyes were closed, her expression peaceful as she slept in Arthur's arms.

She was so different than the hostile witch he'd been confronted with, seeming more hopeless and trodden down than he had ever seen her before.

The smirks and the glares were gone, and though it was only for a moment the feeling of hope bloomed in his chest.

"What are you going to do with her?" his voice was quiet, solemn, as he tore his gaze from Morgana to look at Arthur.

He took a breath, his jaw clenched as he steered around a fallen log.

"I don't know. I'll have to bring her to Gaius first, and if she's well enough I'll bring her to father. Then…" he trailed off, abruptly glancing down at her. "I'll consult with him on her punishment afterwards."

"Where will you keep her?"

"The dungeons?" he phrased it more as a question.

"Are you asking me? Sire, I'm flattered that you'd look to me for guidance." Merlin joked.

Arthur rolled his eyes, "Shut up."

He glanced down at Morgana, suddenly reminded of the day he'd found her in the woods.

When she'd been ambushed during her pilgrimage to her father's grave, and Guinevere had been captured in her stead.

He'd barely taken the time to ensure her safety, so eager to begin his search for her maid.

Arthur tended to pride himself on his loyalty, especially now in the face of such upsetting betrayal.

But he couldn't help but feel as if it had been partially his own fault.

As soon as his infatuation with Gwen had arisen, he was ashamed to admit, he'd spurned most attention from Morgana.

He'd been with her practically his whole life; it was hard to imagine it without her in it.

Now? He was forced to come to the realization that he would most likely be living in a world where she didn't exist at all, and that thought hit him with such stunning devastation that he found himself growing saddened.

His eyes drifted to her bloodied hands and he tensed, was it just his own imagination or had her bleeding grown worse?

The vibrant red of his cape flashed between the trees as he suddenly spurred Storm into a quicker gate, sending Merlin into a bouncing canter in his struggle to stay close.

"Will you slow down?" he huffed.

"Her hands are bleeding heavily." Arthur explained quickly.

Merlin went quiet as they hurried into a gallop, surpassing the flustered and shocked knights.

* * *

**so this ones a little short but i just didnt want to leave my new followers hanging so i'm just getting this out there. so happy people have taken an interest in this story and thank you so much for all the reviews they make my day! all ready working on the next one which will hopefully be much longer and contain uther and morganas reunion. gasp! **


	4. Chapter 4

**Third Person's Point of View**

Storm came to a skidding halt in the middle of the square, snorting with displeasure at the hard yank of his reins.

Arthur jumped down swiftly, gathering Morgana into his arms.

"See to my horse." He barked an order to a passing servant who nodded nervously, struggling with the reins that were thrown at him.

Merlin foisted his own upon the man as well, running ahead of Arthur to the physicians quarters.

"Arthur has Morgana, she's hurt, badly. He's coming here with her."

His mentor never even hesitated, rushing to clear the table in the center of the room.

Bottles and herbs were swept away and he placed down a coarse blanket and a pillow to prop up her head as Arthur barged into the room.

He was silent as he lowered Morgana down, peering hesitantly at her bindings.

"Do you need them removed?" he murmured.

Gaius nodded, "I won't be able to properly assess her injuries with them in the way."

He huffed his assent and pulled a knife from his belt, cutting through the rope with a flick of his wrist.

The physician lifted her hands in his, one at a time, and tsked at the glass.

"It's quite deep. She'll be in a great deal of pain should she awaken, hand me that tonic." He gestured to a small vial of purple glass.

Merlin retrieved it and pulled the stop, wincing at the acrid scent of smoke wafting from it.

"Arthur, tilt her head."

Reluctantly, he moved towards her and placed a hand under her neck.

Morgana jolted, her fingers wrapping around his wrist in a sudden move of surprising strength.

"Don't." her eyes hadn't changed but her voice was like acid, daring him to try.

He nodded slowly, backing away as she loosened her grip.

Without a word she sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the table, the skirts of her dress swishing against her feet.

"You've drugged me enough for one lifetime." She snapped, her expression cold as she stared Gaius down.

He looked away, letting loose a deep sigh as he stood in front of her.

"Let me see your hands." She glared but grudgingly laid them out in her lap. "How did you do this?"

"I knocked over a table and shattered a vase. Then I fell in the glass." She murmured shamefully.

She held nothing but resentment for Gaius, no matter what had happened.

He'd knowingly suppressed her magic for most of her life, drugging her rather than telling her the truth.

The actions he'd taken were foolish, and she'd never forgive him for treating her as a daughter while believing her to be a witch behind closed doors.

She knew what he thought of her, how could he not?

"Am I wrong to assume it's in your knees as well?" he peered up at her.

She shook her head, pulling the skirts of her dress to just above them.

Merlin and Arthur turned away in some convoluted way of respect, eyes averted.

The glass had torn into her knees through the dress and bled down her legs, ribbons of scarlet skating down her calves towards her ankles.

"Oh dear." He pulled a bucket towards him, wringing out a wet cloth and placing it across her knees. "Merlin, come here."

His apprentice turned reluctantly, and became transfixed with the blood running down her legs.

"Use these and pull the glass from this hand." He nodded, clearing his head as he took the tweezers into his grasp.

Morgana looked at him warily, but where this once would have been a moment in which she glared and refused his help, she simply gave a sad smile.

He turned away, taking her hand in his.

Her skin was soft, though sticky with blood.

The tweezers shook in his hand and he pulled a sliver from her palm, wincing along with her as he dropped it into the empty bowl beside her.

It went on like that for some time, Gaius at one hand him at the other, Arthur at the door.

He was continually patting the hilt of his sword, ready to unsheathe it at a moments notice.

"Have you been taking care of yourself?" Gaius said abruptly, having moved to clean the blood from her legs and her knees.

"What do you mean by that?" she asked, her jaw clenched.

"You have lost quite a bit of blood, I need to know if you've eaten or had drink recently." He explained.

Morgana nodded, "I had some broth before I was… distracted."

Merlin had to assume she was speaking of her sister's death, which would surely but a dent in your plans.

"You most likely fainted due to stress and lack of blood from your injuries. Otherwise you seem healthy, though you are a bit more pale than usual."

"I'll put it down to lack of sunlight." She muttered.

Gaius chuckled darkly, "Yes, I'm sure you've been too busy plotting to go outdoors."

The whole of them were shocked into silence at the older man's words, including Morgana.

Her eyes darkened and she leaned forward, Merlin moving in anticipation of a rescue.

"You know nothing you pathetic old man. You've been living in the shadows, watching your own people be persecuted for who they are. You set to drugging me the moment I stepped foot into Camelot, I was just a child. Rather than believe in the good in my heart you let your fear control you, you are at fault for many things that I won't even speak of, for you and I know what they are."

Morgana pulled back, slipping the wet cloth from his grasp to dap at her knees.

She looked to Arthur expectantly. "Now that I've been properly examined, am I to see the king?"

"Just a moment, I must bind your wounds first." Gaius seemed to have recovered from her tongue-lashing and had taken to bustling around the room, retrieving a roll of cloth from a drawer.

"I'll be escorting you to your chambers where I'll have a maid come and clean you up. You look affright." Arthur sneered, in a manner that could have resembled playful.

She nodded, pushing down the hope swelling in her chest.

There was no point in getting herself excited, looking to a future that would never be.

She had betrayed the whole of Camelot, there was no way he would ever forgive her for what she'd done.

The truth could set her free, she knew, but did she deserve it?

"Morgana." She turned, a confused Merlin standing in front of her.

"Yes?"

"You're all done."

She looked down at her hands, and sure enough they'd been bound with thin brown cloth, wrapped tight to halt the flow of her blood.

She'd forgotten how quickly Gaius worked.

"Right, of course." She hopped down from the table, her legs quivering momentarily.

Merlin offered a hand but she waved him away, forcing herself to stand steady as she extended her hands in front of her.

Arthur gave her a bewildered stare but tied her wrists nonetheless, taking her arm in his grasp as he led her out into the hall.

Guards were stationed everywhere, filling up the corridors like rats in the sewers.

They pierced her with their heavy glares, fingers twitching towards their swords.

She avoided looking at them directly, her gaze trained on her feet as she was escorted to her chambers.

Suddenly the door had shut behind her and she found herself in the room she'd spent so much of her life within, and everything looked exactly as she left it.

She didn't know why she had expected things to look differently, but she had.

Her dresses were still hung in the semi-closed armoire, a vase of flowers were set on her nightstand, her bed was made up nicely, and a cool breeze came in through the window she loved to gaze out of.

"My lady." A small girl, she couldn't have been ten and four yet, gave a gentle curtsy from her bedside.

Morgana acknowledged her with a slight shake of the head, slipping into her role of a cold lady of Camelot.

Ward to the king. A role she despised more than anything.

Arthur cleared his throat from behind her, "I'll be back soon to bring you to fa-" he broke off, an awkward pause permeating the air as he rethought his words. "to the king. He's anxious to see you."

He quickly retreated from the room, slamming the door behind him.

"Shall I help you undress my lady?" the girl eyed her bloodied face nervously, her heartbeat quickening within her chest.

Morgana nodded, spinning so her back was to her.

The maid loosened the laces of her dress with nimble fingers, humming lightly to herself.

Within moments it dropped from her chest and pooled on the floor, leaving her in nothing but her undergarments.

Unbothered by her near nakedness Morgana strode to the vanity, wincing at her reflection.

"I must bathe. My hair is tangled and my face is disgusting." She murmured, more to herself than the girl.

Nonetheless she acknowledged her words and smiled, "A bath has already been prepared my lady, though I assure you that you still look quite beautiful."

She turned, curious and somewhat confused. "You don't seem scared. Why? I have magic, as I'm sure you know. I could kill you in a moment without thinking."

The maid shivered but gave a cautious smile, shrugging her shoulders. "I don't believe everyone who has magic is evil. And I've heard enough about what has happened to believe it can't all be your fault. After all, you are a lady of Camelot."

Morgana tilted her head, "How old are you?"

"Ten and five my lady."

"And what is your name?"

"Claire Matheson."

"It's lovely to meet you Claire."

She giggled shakily but gave a low bow, "It's lovely to meet you my lady."

Claire then led her to the area where she'd set up the bath, helping her to bathe her skin of all blood and wash her hair of the tangles and burs.

She was careful to keep her freshly bound hands from the water, ensuring her bandages stayed dry.

The last thing she wanted was to go to Gaius for new ones.

When she was thoroughly cleansed Claire helped her into a simple blue gown, long sleeved and proper, then proceeded to brush her hair until it was glossy and undulated in gentle waves down her back.

She didn't bother to put any makeup on, deciding to leave her skin pure and untouched.

It was then, as she tucked a lock of her clean hair behind her ear, that she noticed the bracelet on her wrist.

The one her sister had given her to help her sleep through the nights, to block her nightmares from disturbing her mind.

Now the sight of it made her sick, and she slid it off with conviction.

"Claire." The girl abandoned her task of folding the ruined red dress to come to come to her side, hands clasped at her waist.

"Yes my lady?"

"Destroy this." She handed her the bracelet, standing from the vanity as she smoothed her hands down the front of her gown.

"Destroy it? My lady, are you quite sure?"

She nodded, knocking at the door to let the guards know she was ready. "I'm certain. I don't care how, burn it, crush it; you can even keep it if you wish. I don't want it, and I wish never to see it again."

The girl looked at the bracelet, unassuming in its beauty, but appeased her with a nod.

"As you wish my lady."

Arthur entered the room then, holding back the smile that threatened to overcome him.

She looked like the old Morgana, the one he'd grown up with.

There was no heavy makeup staining her beauty, no elaborate headdresses and jewels to accentuate her standing.

She was just, Morgana.

His sister.

"Are you ready?"

She nodded and he re-tied her wrists, leading her from the chambers.

Her mind was racing, panicking at the thought of seeing Uther again.

She thought of the things she had said to him the last time they'd spoken, she had been downright cruel.

And even knowing what she knew now about what Morgause had done to her, she didn't regret a word.

She tilted her chin high, she was no weak woman, she was strong and she would stand by the things she had said to him.

Her death was imminent, why take back anything she'd said for some hope at redemption?

It wouldn't mean anything, it would just be a momentary forgiveness on his part, and then he'd go on to announce her execution.

Before she'd even realized how little time she had to prepare herself, they were standing at his doors.

Arthur glanced down at her, taken aback by her frightened expression.

"Come in!" his father called, and he looked up to realize the guard had knocked on his behalf.

Steeling himself for the conversation to come Arthur pushed in, Morgana tucked close to his side.

Morgana was startled to see Guinevere at the king's bed, tidying his blankets.

She bowed to Arthur respectfully, and then rested her gaze on her former mistress.

Out of all the people she hurt Morgana regretted what she had done to Gwen the most.

She had been her best friend, the person who looked past her title and treated her like a normal human being.

On the nights she was woken by her horrific nightmares, Gwen had been there to comfort her and assure her that they were only dreams.

"Arthur. Morgana." She tore her gaze from the retreating Guinevere, her eyes locking onto Uther.

He'd managed to sit up in bed, propped up by an array of pillows.

His expression was stern and angry, and he gestured for them to take a seat.

It was then she noticed the two chairs on either side of his great kingly bed.

Hesitantly she left Arthur's grasp and sat down, averting her gaze to the wall across from her.

Arthur sat as well, his eyes darting from one Pendragon to the other.

"Do you know why I've called you here?" he looked to his daughter, accusations in his stare.

She sighed, fiddling with the rope that itched her wrists.

"I suppose it could have something to do with my betrayal of Camelot, the wrongs I've committed against you, trying to steal the crown…" she trailed off sarcastically.

"Morgana," the king started. "I will not pretend I can forgive you for the treason you've committed, nor the magic you possess-"

She stood abruptly, her chair skidding back. "Forgive? Why in the world would I seek forgiveness from you?"

"Sit down!" he commanded.

"How dare you." she growled.

"How dare I? I am your king! You will do as I command!"

"You are no king, least of all mine."

He recoiled as if she'd slapped him.

She couldn't imagine why he seemed so surprised; she'd said relatively the same things to him before.

"I do not seek forgiveness from you; you are nothing but a sick old man. I've spent too long fearing for my life at your hand, when I should have been secure under it. You led me to believe I was your precious ward, a promise you made to my father. When you've known all along that I was your daughter." She was shaking; her anger had gotten the better of her.

She sat back in the chair, her hands clenched into fists in her lap.

"Morgana, I could not tell you of your birthright. You admired your father so much; I could not take that away from you."

"Don't patronize me!" she spat. "You act under the guise of trying to protect me, when really you didn't want to admit to your kingdom that you betrayed your beloved queen. You brought me to this place, a frightened young child, and you could have assured me with the truth that you cared for me."

"You must have known I cared for you, you are my daughter. I love you Morgana, as I always have."

She scoffed, leaning back into the seat. "And how have you shown it to me? By grabbing my neck or locking me in a dungeon when I speak out against you? That is not love."

"I admit I have not always made wise decisions concerning you, but you must understand that I am the king. I have always done what I thought was best, for you and the kingdom."

"Does that include the persecution of innocents? Tell me father, now that you know of my magic, when will my execution take place? Or do I get special treatment?"

Arthur sat up straighter at the mention of her powers, his stare burrowing into the side of his father's face.

"You will be treated as any other citizen of Camelot. Morgana," he broke off, tears welling in his eyes. "I sentence you to death. I cannot treat you any differently because you are my daughter. You have committed treason with your use of magic, and you have conspired against Camelot. I have no choice. You will be executed in a week's time."

* * *

**_dont tell me u didnt see that one coming. but no worries, we all know one way or another shell find a way out of it. or will she?_**

**_reviews are always welcome, thanks for the love! _**


	5. Chapter 5

**Third Person's Point of View**

The panic she thought she would feel never appeared, and for a moment she sat still in her chair, waiting for it to hit her.

But it never did, she simply stared across the bed at Arthur who swallowed hard in disbelief.

"Father-"

"Take her away. She will stay in her chambers until you make the formal announcement." Uther looked away, leaning farther back into his pillows.

He was tired and ill, and the entirety of this conversation and confrontation had left him exhausted and frail.

His son simply nodded, leading her out of the room with a hand on her forearm.

He continually stole glances at her, waiting for the –what he believed was inevitable– escape attempt.

Her chambers were empty when she returned, the bath gone as well as Claire.

Arthur leant against the closed door, watching her closely.

There was so much he wanted to say to her, so many questions he wanted to ask.

She sat despondently on the four poster bed, her expression completely blank.

He had grown up with her, shared secrets and stories with her that he hadn't dared to tell anyone in the entirety of his life.

He'd known her better than anyone, or at least he'd believed he had.

And if he knew anything about her, he knew that this wasn't Morgana.

She was a shell, a fraud placed before him to eliminate the memories he was desperately holding onto.

"Who are you?" he murmured unthinkingly.

She looked up sadly. "I don't know anymore."

In a moment of sudden sympathy he sat beside her and reached out, placing a hand atop hers.

Morgana smiled softly, flipping her hand and interlocking their fingers.

"I wish I'd known all along that you were my brother."

His head tilted. "Why?"

"I would have made sure you knew how much I care for you."

Shock colored his cheeks and he looked away, feeling incredibly torn.

"I want to talk to you; I want to treat you like the Morgana you used to be. But I can't. You're not."

She nodded. "It's all right. I understand."

They were quiet for a moment, contemplating.

"Why?" Arthur spoke up, unable to keep silent any longer.

It hurt to know that she had deliberately betrayed him, betrayed everyone in Camelot.

She had gone behind his back and consorted with Morgause, plotted to destroy him and take the kingdom for her own.

"Why what?" she murmured.

He laughed, shaking his head in irritation. "Don't play that game with me Morgana. You know what I want to know."

She looked down at her lap, pulling her hand from his.

There was nothing she wanted more than to tell him the truth, to explain everything.

To have his forgiveness meant everything to her but what she wanted didn't matter; someone had to pay for what had been done.

"I'm sorry."

He stood up angrily, stabbing a finger in her direction. "Sorry isn't an explanation. I want to know why you did this. I want to know how you could have betrayed me, betrayed all of Camelot and the people who've cared for you!" he was shouting emphatically, his face growing red.

"I'm sorry." She repeated.

"Stop saying that!" he grabbed her arms, squeezing roughly as he pulled her to her feet.

"Let me go!" her eyes flashed gold and she pushed him back.

Arthur sucked in a breath as he hit the wall across from them, falling to the floor with a thud.

Morgana cried out as she threw herself at his side, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry. I didn't want to do it, please, you have to believe me." She sobbed.

Bewildered, he returned her hug, closing his eyes.

He wanted to pretend they were okay, that she was herself again, but he couldn't.

As she pulled back he sat up, gingerly holding his side.

"I'll tell you everything. I swear it. I can't have you look at me like I'm a monster any longer." She cried.

Arthur shook his head, confused. "What are you talking about?"

Morgana stood, helping him to stand up and helping him to the bed, where he groaned as he lay back.

"I don't understand, you need to explain."

She nodded tearfully, brushing the hair from her face as she began pacing.

"When M-" she broke off, contemplating her words.

She'd been about to say 'when Merlin poisoned me,' but she'd stopped herself.

There were many things she still didn't understand about that day, but the one thing she did was that Merlin had acted to save Camelot.

She couldn't say with certainty that she understood why he'd chosen to take that course of action, but she wasn't ready to out his misdeeds to Arthur quite yet.

"Morgana?"

She looked up, nodding brusquely at the realization that she'd been staring off into nothingness. "When Morgause took me, she brought me to Cenred's castle. I was disoriented, and you have to understand I wasn't in my right mind. She brought me to a cellar, though I didn't recognize it as such at the time. When she left, I found mandrake root all over the ceiling. It destroyed me. It fed on my fears and my weaknesses; it caused me to have delusions of everyone."

"What kind of delusions?"

"I would see the people I loved and cared for, and they would call me names. Taunt me; threaten me with death and torture me in unimaginable ways. I couldn't stop screaming, it was horrible, and I never got sleep. I don't know how long she kept me there, but every once in a while she would come and speak with me and bring me food and drink. She put the thought that she was the only person who cared for me into my mind, and eventually it stuck."

He looked away, his thoughts full of doubt.

There was nothing he wanted more than to believe her, but it was easier said than done.

"She did all that with mandrake root?"

"Yes. Only high priestess' can do it, she used it to perform a ritual of sorts called the teine diaga. It takes the victims soul and twists it until it's no longer their own. When it was over, I was hers to command."

He managed to nod in acknowledgement. "How do I know you're not still under her control?"

"When the high priestess dies her victims are released, and the memory of their time with the mandrake root is realized."

"You mean, after all that she did to you, you didn't remember any of it?"

"No. It's a part of the ritual. When she took me from the cell I remembered nothing but the deep hatred I held for everyone in Camelot. Any time I tried to think of something good I was confronted by the images from my terrors."

"And yet, with everything that you have told me, you still stand by everything you said to our father." He pointed out accusingly.

She shook her head, tired of all of this talk. "How could you hope to understand? How could you ever know what it's like to live under the rule of this merciless tyrant king, and realize that you have magic? To hope with everything you have that he'll understand and still care for you, but to know that he'll have you killed as he does all the others? You don't know what it's like to realize that he's killing your brothers and sisters, the people who are just like you and you're powerless to stop it."

Morgana broke off, collapsing onto the bed with her hands in her lap.

"And then, to find out he's my father. To realize that the man whose grave I've visited countless times throughout my life was never responsible for my existence, it hurts more than all of it. I hate Uther for taking that away. And what's worse, he's never even bothered to acknowledge me. I heard him, when he spoke to Gaius, when he thought I was asleep. He admitted it to him, but he couldn't to me. I gave him so many opportunities, and he never said a word."

Arthur was quiet, processing, running over every sentence in his mind.

He could see these things from her point of view; understand how they could drive her to such unimaginable fear.

But Uther was still his father, still the man who'd cared for him his whole life.

And then, a thought hit him.

Uther was his father, yes, but Morgana was his sister.

"I feared for my life, and everywhere I turned there was another person telling me I was just imagining things. You don't know how alone I felt, I had no one to turn to! And then there was Morgause, and she told me I was her sister. She was family and she cared for me, and she had magic. I wasn't alone anymore."

"You were never alone in the first place." Arthur objected, "You had me, and Guinevere, and even Merlin. Why didn't you just come to us? Were we really so distrustful?"

She scoffed, standing up angrily. "I was always alone! The moment your infatuation with Gwen became clear, you left me in the dust. Neither of you talked to me anymore because you were afraid I'd find out about your precious feelings! How was I meant to trust you when you couldn't return the gesture?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Do you remember the pilgrimage to my father's grave? We were ambushed, and I got away but Gwen was taken. When you found me in the woods the first thing you did was ask me where she was. There was no concern for me, no care that I was bloodied and bruised and in nothing but a shift. All you cared about was returning for her. At the time I suppose I was too stupid to notice how little you cared, but it became more apparent as time went on. I thought," she broke off, her shoulders dropped despairingly. "I thought you would always be there for me. I suppose I was wrong."

His heart nearly broke at her words, at the utter despair of hopelessness in the voice.

With a hushed moan he stood up and rushed her, pulling her to him.

She gasped, her arms limp at her side.

He hugged her with all that he had, crushing her with forgiveness and love and all the care he could manage to feel in his body.

"I never meant to make you feel this way. You are never alone, do you understand?"

He pulled back to look at her tear streaked face, her lower lip trembling.

They were the same exact words her sister had spoken to her, but they sounded completely different coming from her brothers lips.

She found a smile creeping up on her face and she nodded, bringing her arms around him as well.

For a moment they stood in total silence, coming together in their forgiveness.

* * *

Merlin watched the exchange through the slots of the wooden dressing screen with a gaping mouth, his hand squeezing Gwen's shoulder.

They hadn't meant to spy on the two, but when they'd heard them returning instinct had driven them to hide, leaving them crouched in the corner behind the screen.

To say they'd been shocked by the turn of events was an understatement.

If what Morgana said was true, it put many unanswered questions into perspective.

Arthur and Morgana pulled apart after a few moments, cheeks flushed and eyes red.

Neither was known for their displays of affection, and everything they'd gone through in the span of mere hours had taken its toll.

"Better late than never right?" She murmured, taking a seat at the small table by her bed.

Arthur sighed, sitting down across from her.

"Don't talk like that. When I explain to father what you've told me, he'll have no choice but to retract his decision."

She shook her head, laughing darkly. "Arthur, he won't believe you. He'll only think I've cast some sort of spell on you. It won't matter."

He frowned, reaching across the table to touch her fingers comfortingly. "You are my sister, Morgana, my own blood. We have grown up together, and you've always stood by my side. Morgause took advantage of you and used you for her own selfish purposes, I won't watch you die for actions that were not your own."

Gwen gasped and Merlin smacked a hand over her mouth, shushing her silently.

"What was that?"

He looked up at Arthur's voice, eyes wide as he looked in the direction of the screen.

"I'm sure it was nothing Arthur."

Dismissing the noise he turned back to Morgana, closing his eyes as he rubbed his head.

"Father said you have a week until the execution. We can figure something out; I won't let this happen to you."

She kept quiet, touching a hand to his cheek.

"You can't stop this Arthur. Someone has to pay for the lives of those people, and it's going to be me."

He stood up, his chair scraping noisily against the floor as it slid back.

"I'll figure this out Morgana. Don't worry, I'll be back soon. The formal announcement will not take place if I have anything to say about it."

"Arthur-" she held out a hand but he ignored her.

The door slammed behind him as he marched from the room, his anger taking ahold of him once again.

Morgana stayed frozen at the table, her head propped up by a fist.

She bit her lip and let out a sigh, then glared in the direction of their hiding spot.

"You can come out now. I'm sure you've heard enough."

Merlin glanced at Guinevere who seemed to be in quite a bit of shock, her eyes growing big at the realization that they'd been discovered.

"I said come out, I know you're there."

Slowly he stood up, smiling sheepishly at having been caught snooping during such a delicate conversation between siblings.

"How long did you know?" he helped Gwen up and they stepped out from behind the screen, heads lowered in embarrassment.

"I heard your gasp. Lucky for you Arthur's always been a bit of a dullard." She left the table and wandered to her armoire, pulling a nightgown from inside with strained nonchalance.

"Was what you said the truth? How can we know you're not lying?" Gwen piped up.

Morgana turned, tossing the nightgown onto the bed and diverting her attention to the person she wished to call her best friend once again.

"I suppose you don't. But if it means anything to you, I swear on my life that I'm not. I want you to know, I regret hurting you more than anything." She frowned tearfully at the woman who had once been her maid, and would now be the future queen of Camelot.

But that was something she would keep to herself for now.

"I'm sincerely sorry for everything I did. I don't expect you to forgive me, but-" she was cut off as Guinevere lunged, her arms thrown around her.

"I forgive you. You are and always will be my best friend." She murmured softly.

Morgana returned the embrace fiercely, her face burrowed in her neck.

"Thank you."

Merlin watched the exchange cautiously, still unsure of everything.

He wanted to believe Morgana was telling the truth more than anything in the world, but it was hard to forget the months she'd spent threatening him and glaring at him from across rooms.

"May I speak with Merlin, alone?"

He looked up at his name, startled to see Guinevere nodding understandingly and leaving the room with a cautious and supportive smile thrown in his direction.

And then there were two.

Morgana was staring at him with that piercing gaze she had, smiling softly.

"Since my sister's death, I've been able to put some things in perspective. I see now, that you poisoned me to save Camelot. That it wasn't just to hurt me. I can't say I understand why you chose to do it in that manner, for all you know I would've done it myself."

She paused, her brow furrowed in concentration as she sought out the words.

"I thought we were friends, and I thought you trusted me."

"Morg-"

"No. Let me speak, please." She gazed at him pleadingly and he nodded.

His time to explain himself could wait a while longer, for now he would let her speak her piece.

"I don't have much time left, and despite what Arthur thinks, Uther isn't going to change his mind about this. I would know better than most that when he makes a decision he rarely goes back on his word. Now I don't want to spend the rest of my days holding a grudge against you, and while I don't think I can forgive you just yet, I can say with certainty that I don't blame you. And I hope, before this is all over, that we can become friends again… at least for a little while."

He tried hard to push past the sincerity in her voice, do discern between truths and lie but the line had blurred.

Everything inside him was screaming that she was being honest, that the vulnerable expression she wore on her face couldn't be anything but real.

But then he looked back, and he remembered the moment when he'd seen her on her bed, just having returned from her year long absence and she'd been teary-eyed and repentant.

She'd tricked him then, who was to say she couldn't trick him just as easily now?

Except for one thing, she was to be executed.

What reason did she have to lie to him or to anyone else for that matter?

Morgause was dead and any ally she had had in her twisted hopes to have the throne were gone, and she was alone.

Perhaps this was her way of ensuring that she wasn't completely on her own in the last few days of her life, and should that be true, he certainly couldn't hold it against her.

"I understand." He nodded, smiling easily. "I hope we can as well. There is nothing I want more than for things to be okay between us. I've," he broke off, unsure of whether it was appropriate or not to express his feelings to her. "I've missed you. The real you."

She laughed, somewhat humorlessly. "I don't quite know who the real me is anymore."

"I do. The real Morgana is kind and compassionate, she cares for the people of Camelot, sometimes more than she cares for herself. She knows how to treat people like they are worth something, and she's not afraid to speak her mind. She's a good person, and she's someone I care about very much. And I'm very sorry to have hurt her." He took her hand, somewhat unsure of himself, and stroked her palm with his thumb.

"Do you think there's a chance that I could ever be her again?" she murmured.

She tilted her head to look into his eyes, full of hope and yet solemn as well.

Merlin nodded, "I believe, if you are sincere that anything is possible if given the time."

A comfortable silence followed his words and she released his hand, smoothing her fingers down the front of her dress.

"I suppose I should let you get some rest, it's been a trying day."

He bowed his head and agreed, bidding her a good night as he swept from her chambers.

Finally alone, she took a breath and closed her eyes.

The confrontations she had gone through had taken much out of her, and all she wanted now was a good night's rest in her comfortable, familiar bed.

But her muddled and confused feelings prevented any idea of sleep, and she took a seat before the fireplace.

With the unintentional forgiveness she had earned from Arthur came a sense of relief, and it worried her.

The last thing she wanted was to grow used to the feeling of belonging again, as it would only make it harder to accept her predetermined death.

Arthur believed he could change their father's mind, but she knew better.

She may be his daughter, but that didn't have any effect on the laws against magic.

It was clearly stated, sorcery was punishable by death.

If he changed his outlook based strictly on her, there would be an uprising and he wouldn't risk that.

Camelot meant more to him than she ever had.

The panic she had been waiting and waiting to feel since he had announced her execution, sealing her fate, finally came.

She wasn't ready to die.

When Claire came in a few moments later it was to the sight of her mistress curled up in front of the fireplace, shaking uncontrollably and still in her day's dress.

Whether it was from the chill of the stone floor or the sobs that racked her body, it was unclear, but she did what she could and held her until her tears dried up.

* * *

Gaius stood as Merlin entered their chambers, gazing at him expectantly.

"Where have you been?" he demanded, his tone noticeably concerned.

Merlin let out the sigh he'd been holding, long and loud and full of uncertainty.

"I don't know where to begin." He murmured, taking a seat the small table where they shared their meals.

Gaius sat down across from him, "I must attend to the king. Tell me what you can."

"Morgana is to be executed in a week's time. And if I'm to believe what she told Arthur, Morgause was controlling her the entire time."

The physician recoiled in surprise, "How so?"

"She said it was mandrake root, some ritual only performed by high priestesses of the old religion."

"Teine diaga."

Merlin looked up in surprise, "You know it?"

"Yes. When I was young I heard talk of an ancient ritual of the old religion called the teine diaga. The ritual used mandrake root to bring unimaginable terror to the victim. When it was finally over, their will was no longer their own, they were slaves to the high priestess' for eternity. But, seeing as Morgause was the last of them, Morgana may very well have broken from it. That is, if she was telling the truth in the first place."

"And if she was, she'll be executed for something she had no control over."

"Merlin." Gaius grabbed his hand, his voice stern. "There is nothing you can do to stop this. Do not put yourself in danger for her. She could very well be lying to you and Arthur."

Merlin nodded, smiling weakly. "I know. I won't do anything."

"Good. I'll be back soon. The king has grown weaker, and I've done all I can do. It won't be long now." Gaius said solemnly, squeezing his shoulder as he left the room.

Merlin retreated to his cot, changing slowly and methodically into his night clothes.

His thoughts ran rampant, skimming over everything Morgana had said both to Arthur and himself.

He knew she had been a good liar in her time of deception, but she had seemed too sincere and honest to have been lying.

Every part of his being screamed at him to believe her, to take that leap of faith and do something.

And so, as he lay under his blankets and rested his head on his pillow, he began to plot.

Gradually, a plan formed in his mind.

A plan to save Morgana.

* * *

**sorry about the wait, i just hope it was worth it and that it's enjoyed. god i am seriously overwhelmed by the response i have been getting to this story of mine and i can not say thank you enough. it seriously means a lot to me. oh! so i added some pix to my tumblr for this story and i would appreciate if you would check it out, the link is on my profile. also, to my _the lost one_ ****readers, i will be updating shortly, sorry for the sucky last chapter and i promise this one will make up for it... i hope. anyways, happy reading and please review they make my day! **


	6. Chapter 6

**3 Days**

For Morgana, three days went fairly quickly.

Through Gaius and various other messengers, she was informed of how exactly everything was going to proceed.

She was permitted to continue living in her chambers until the formal announcement, and would then be transferred to a cell in the dungeons below the castle.

Until then she was to remain in her chambers, with only Arthur, Gaius and her maid allowed entry.

There wasn't much to do being confined to only one room of the castle, and she found herself bored of reading the same books repeatedly.

Arthur meanwhile was stewing, coming to a slow boil as the hatred he felt for his father grew.

The thoughts he had of watching Morgana burn tormented him, and as he prepared himself to announce her execution he briefly considered declaring his father dead instead.

He banished those musings from his mind as quickly as possible, moving so that Merlin could fix the red cloak onto his chainmail.

"Are you ready?" he murmured.

Arthur sighed, stepping over to his window.

He looked down upon the town square, where the pyre was yet to be erected, but the townspeople gathered anyway.

They were waiting for him to announce that his sister's death would take place in four days.

Her way of death would be by fire, as a witch deserved.

Flames would lick at her skin until it peeled back and revealed her precious flesh, it would torture her up until the last second that the god of death claimed her for his own.

"No."

He finally answered his friend's question, sweeping from the room with his head held high and his shoulders squared.

This wasn't the end; he wasn't going to follow through on this.

He didn't care if it meant breaking the laws he'd gone so far to instill, he refused to watch her die.

Merlin followed at a safe distance until they turned and found themselves in the doorway to the balcony.

Arthur's crown glinted in the sunlight filtering through the stain glass windows beside them, and he couldn't help but think that it should be raining.

It wasn't right that it was such a beautiful day witnessing such disheartening happenings.

Morgana was innocent; he knew it with such certainty it actually frightened him.

Why couldn't his father see that?

With renewed determination that whatever he said today wouldn't matter in the long run, he stepped out into the light.

The people below him cheered and called his name, he'd always been the golden prince.

A smile curved his lips at the thought of such loyalty belonging to him.

"Citizens of Camelot." His hand rose and they quieted. "I have called you here to announce the capture of the lady Morgana. For treason against the crown and the crime of possessing magic, she is to be punished in four days' time. Her sentence, to be put to death by way of fire."

He nearly choked on the words that passed his lips, and he cleared his throat.

"That is all. You may return to your duties."

The humming of the crowds chatter grew loud, turning into a dull roar that poked and prodded at his ears.

He turned and practically ran to his chambers, his cape fluttering about behind him.

There was nothing in the world that could convince him to stay and listen to the angry slurs of his people, brandishing his sister with their hurtful words.

And with all his heart he cursed Morgause, for putting her in this spot.

He couldn't find it in himself to care when a hand through his hair sent the crown clattering to the ground.

Merlin silently picked it up, watching solemnly as he turned the corner and disappeared.

* * *

**4 Days**

Merlin knocked gently on the door to Arthur's chambers, listening for a reply.

The silence was deafening, and with a sigh he walked in.

The temporary king sat despondently at his desk by the window, gazing blankly out towards the square.

Preparations to build the pyre had begun, and he couldn't tear his eyes from the partially constructed platform.

The people milled about their daily business, though some stopped to watch the construction with excitement and satisfaction.

It was sickening, the pleasure they had in watching an execution.

His father had instilled such hatred of magic in these people that they craved death, believing so strongly that all they would do was harm them.

He couldn't fathom how quickly though they could turn on her.

Morgana had been their biggest supporter, their biggest advocate.

She'd gone out of her way to make sure they were well fed and taken care of when his father hadn't cared, and then he remember what she'd done.

The citizens she'd had put to death while under Morgause's control.

"Arthur." He looked up, startled at his name.

Merlin closed the door behind him and walked over to the table, fidgeting with the scarf at his neck.

"Merlin."

"Sire…" he trailed off, trying to tactfully broach the subject at hand.

"Yes?"

"I have to ask…" he wasn't particularly finding it easy.

"Will you spit it out? I haven't got all day." Arthur snapped, somewhat jokingly.

"Are you planning something?"

Arthur feigned a confused expression but faltered, scratching at his brow sheepishly.

"I'm assuming your question is regarding Morgana. And in that case, yes. I am… planning something."

Merlin smiled excitedly, "Good. Because I have an idea."

"Merlin?! Have you been, plotting, behind my back?"

"I would never do such a thing." He spluttered. "I simply thought of something to help you in your endeavors. Just as any other manservant would do."

Arthur frowned but rolled his eyes at his cheeky behavior, shuffling papers on his desk.

"What did you have in mind?"

"Before we discuss this further, I must ask you sire. Are you sure this is what you wish to do?"

His jaw clenched and he nodded. "I can't let her die Merlin. She's my sister, and I don't know how, but I know she's telling the truth."

"So do I."

Arthur stood so quickly his chair fell back and Merlin whirled around. "Guinevere?!"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to eavesdrop but, I heard what you said." She clasped her hands resolutely and stared them down. "And I want to help."

* * *

**5 Days**

Her hay-filled cot was uncomfortable and she found her skin had grown irritated from the straw poking through the fabric, sticking her late at night.

She'd only been here for two nights, but her body had already grown sore from the lumpy "bed".

She didn't have a pillow, though she didn't particularly need it.

There wasn't much sleeping taking place in her cell.

The nights passed without warning and suddenly that tiny strip of light was moving across the stone floor again, mocking her.

She was growing weary, the sleepless nights coupled with the barely there portions of food.

Morgana supposed this was intentional, to ensure she didn't try anything at her execution.

They thought so little of her; saw only what she had become and not who she'd been.

It saddened her that the life she'd lived in Camelot could be so easily wiped away by the smear of a mistake, her good deeds so easily forgotten.

Her tired eyes lazily followed the dust motes as they drifted through the beam of light, her fingers reaching out.

For a moment she felt it, the warmth on her skin, and smiled.

The sun was her only companion now.

* * *

**6 Days**

They'd finalized their plans and were putting them into action that very night.

It wasn't very complex, quite simple really, but it would work.

It had to work.

There was a series of elaborate tunnels beneath the castle that snaked out into the woods just beyond Camelot's walls.

They were accessible through a hidden passage in the library, which was brought to Arthur's attention through a sheepish and unable/unwilling-to-explain Merlin.

_The first step:_

Gwen would bring Morgana's guards their supper, laced with a sleeping aid, and release the lock on her cell with the master key lent to her through the prince.

Arthur was anxious about saddling her with this task, but she convinced him he needed to be seen, otherwise his father may think he was involved in her escape.

Reluctantly, he agreed with her.

_The second step:_

Merlin would be waiting in the library with enough supplies for a two day journey.

The excuse for his absence would be a sudden visit to his ailing mother in Ealdor, approved by Arthur of course.

When Gwen arrived with Morgana, they would take to the tunnels.

From the forest they would find two horses – left by Merlin earlier in the day – and ride straight on through the night until they reached Ealdor.

That was where the plan promptly ended, and hopefully his mother would allow them to stay for a few days until Morgana found a more permanent location to stay until somehow, someway, Arthur cleared her name.

Gwen was anxious for their plans to be brought underway, tomorrow was the execution and she couldn't bear to think of watching her best friend burn.

For now she stood in the kitchen, anxiously watching as the cook prepared the guards' suppers.

It was still light out, the sun gradually lowering in the sky.

They days were growing longer again, and it felt as if it was midday.

She gratefully pulled the tray of plates she was handed into her arms and spun on her heel, being careful not to drop anything as she made her way to the dungeon.

There was – surprisingly – only one guard posted at the front and she frowned, tilting her head to the side.

"I'm here to bring supper. Where are the others?" she tried to keep the distress from her voice but it leaked through regardless.

"You haven't heard? The king has moved up the execution, they're escorting Morgana to the pyre as we speak." He took a plate from the tray just as it dropped from her fingertips, clattering to the floor.

The potatoes and bread were flung across the stone and he cursed, grumbling angrily as sauce from the meat spattered onto his boots.

She ran for all she was worth, clutching her skirts in fisted hands as she skidded around corners and knocked shoulders with servants.

Gwen jolted to a stop as she hit a man's chest, her wrists grasped in his strong grip.

Arthur looked down at her with panicked eyes, and she opened her mouth to speak but he beat her to it.

"My father's moved the execution forward."

"I know. The guard just told me. What are we going to do?"

"I don't know."

A loud cheer rang out and they bolted to the window, their horrified gazes latching on to the guards.

Morgana's wrists were shackled behind her back and each one had a hold on her arm, virtually dragging her towards the platform.

She was looking at the sky, smiling wistfully as a bird flew low overhead.

They couldn't waste any more time.

In a moment of instinctual comfort they grasped hands and took to the square, clutching tightly to one another as they ran.

Merlin had heard only moments before them, and was shoving his way through the crowd.

He didn't know what to do; he didn't know what he could do.

Gaius grabbed a hold of his arm as he reached the front line of the spectators, shaking his head solemnly.

"I'm sorry Merlin. He kept it from me."

He knew his mentor was speaking of Uther, moving her execution up had been a spur of the moment decision he'd kept from even his most trusted of advisors.

The king had decided to leave nothing to chance.

His son had proved how far his determination would take him in the past, and Morgana was his sister.

He wasn't so foolish as to believe Arthur would stand by and allow her death without at least trying to do something to stop it.

Now he sat in a chair upon the balcony, tears stinging at his eyes as he watched the people of Camelot call for his daughter's death.

She had killed their friends, members of their family, and they were glad she wouldn't go unpunished.

There were some that felt the sting of betrayal, remembering the moments when the lady could be seen passing out bread to the more unfortunate of citizens, and mourning her loss.

But most were blinded by the hate in their hearts, viewing her only as a creature of magic, an evil they had been taught to fear.

The king himself felt unimaginable guilt over what he was about to do, but he knew it was right.

She was a sin, an unholy being of darkness created only to bring about the kingdom's downfall.

Merlin watched with wide eyes as she was brought to the pyre, her wrists undone and re-shackled around the stake.

She faced the crowd defiantly; eyes open and gazing blankly up at the sun.

A smile tilted the corner of her mouth, and he couldn't help but whisper her name.

"Morgana."

As if she could hear him over the hateful slurs she looked down, and sought him out.

Their gazes caught onto one another like magnets drawn together, and her smile grew wider.

'Thank you' she mouthed.

He knew she was thanking him for his forgiveness, for finally believing in the truths she told.

He didn't quite understand how she knew this, but she did.

The crowd grew quiet and turned to the balcony, where Uther had struggled to his feet.

Guards stood at either side, holding him up on weak legs.

With a grim expression to his face he raised his hand, and dropped it one swift moment before collapsing back into his chair.

This final deed would be his last, he could feel it in his aching bones.

The executioner – the one Merlin hadn't noticed until now – dropped the lit torch to the base of the straw bales surrounding the stake.

Arthur had appeared at the platform and was arguing with the guards, much to the astonishment of the crowd, screaming for Morgana's release.

Gwen stood just behind him, hands over her mouth in despair.

The flames grew steadily and a single tear rolled from the corner of Morgana's eye to her chin.

He didn't quite understand what came over him, this sudden delirious feeling of panic and determination.

Seeing her cry as the flames moved to hide her from view sent him into a place he didn't know existed, and his jaw set.

He shook Gaius' hand from his arm and elbowed the guard in front of him with a strength he wasn't aware he possessed, sending him to his knees as he clutched his belly.

His hands found the platform and he hoisted himself up, the flames parting for him as if he was some sort of god.

Merlin's eyes glowed gold as he reached through the fire and grasped her in his arms, his lips moving rapidly as a wind grew around them.

Her weakened body went limp and her head dropped to the crook of his neck, and suddenly, in a flash of light and smoke, they were gone.

Left behind were only the flames, licking at the straw as the sparks reached for the sky.

Arthur found that he couldn't quite hear anything, not the screams and shouts of panic from the citizens who ran for cover, nor Guinevere calling his name.

His gaze was simply latched to the spot where two of the most important people in his life had just been, now gone in the blink of an eye.

The guards who had held him back mere seconds ago raced about, searching the square though they knew the ones they seeked were no longer there.

Uther simply stared down at his bewildered son, clutching at his chest as pain laced through his body.

Morgana was gone.

* * *

**_so i'm sorry, i know it's been too long and i know this is short, but its what needed to happen and i didnt want to make it any longer because every time i did it seemed like i was rambling. anyways, some good stuff huh? magic reveal and all considered. so morgana got away, but is she alright? merlin just revealed he has magic to everyone in camelot, will he ever be able to return? these questions shall be answered in time. hope you stick around and please please please leave me reviews. tata for now!_**


	7. Chapter 7

**Third Person's Point of View**

Something was tickling his face, it felt soft, almost like… velvet.

Merlin warily opened an eye, only to recoil at the close proximity of a dark horse.

It snorted at his sudden movement and walked a few steps away, nibbling leisurely at the grass as he propped himself up on his elbows and looked around.

The light of day was fading quickly, and he could just make out the beginning of a sunset over the ridge.

On his right Morgana lay still, her feet red with broken blisters caused by the flames that had touched and subsequently burnt her delicate skin.

The anger of having gotten to her too late to have prevented them boiled within him, but he shoved it down.

He would get them to Ealdor, and she would be alright.

His mother would help to treat her burns and she would recover, and he would talk to Arthur…

The recollection of what exactly he had just done hit him, and he rubbed at his eyes.

In front of everyone: the citizens of Camelot, the king, Gwen… Arthur, he'd revealed his magic.

_To save Morgana _a tiny voice whispered and he nodded to himself, rolling onto his knees.

Her dark hair was splayed about her head, and her face was pale.

Wincing at the pain in his bones he leant over her, touching two fingers to the base of her neck, just to be sure.

Though it was nearly imperceptible her chest moved with each breath she took, and the fingers resting upon her stomach twitched.

She was alive.

He looked up at the sound of warning bells, chiming their escape.

They didn't have much time, he had to stop dawdling and they needed to start moving.

Merlin struggled to his feet, leaning heavily up against a tree until he gathered himself.

Two horses grazed only a few steps away, lead ropes tying them to a low lying branch.

Even in the state of mind he had been in as he'd cast the spell, he'd somehow incorporated the location of their horses into it.

He walked, slowly but steadily, to the stallion Arthur had given him.

Tall and dark with a white star on his forehead, Striker nuzzled at Merlin's pockets as he approached, hoping for a treat.

He patted his neck with a whispered apology and untied the rope, leading him towards Morgana.

It took a few awkward attempts but he managed to lift her onto the saddle, vaulting up behind her.

The other, Nila, had been brought for Morgana, but seeing as she couldn't ride he hitched her lead rope to the saddle horn.

It was unnecessary to bring her along, but he didn't have the heart to leave her.

Merlin wrapped an arm around Morgana's waist as they rode on, leaving Camelot behind.

* * *

Arthur made his way to his chambers slowly and silently, a nervous Guinevere at his side.

She hadn't said a word since they'd left the square, her fingers twisted around the fabric of her skirts.

He opened the heavy wooden door and ushered her inside, closing the door and locking it with a definitive flick of the wrist.

The sound of his boots tapping against the floor echoed throughout the room as he moved to the desk, sinking into his chair exhaustedly.

Guinevere stood nervously by his bed, her hand clutching at the post.

It was as if she constantly needed to touch something, to feel a sense of reassurance that whatever it was beneath her fingertips had to be real, for she could feel it.

Magic couldn't be felt; it was in the sky, permeating the air around them.

It was uncertain, unsubstantial, and it scared her that something she couldn't feel could be real.

"Did you know?" his voice cracked on the last word, and she noticed that he'd dropped his head into his hands, and was staring at the papers scattered across the surface of his desk.

He couldn't look at her, for fear she would say something that could hurt him nearly as badly as Merlin's betrayal had.

"No." she whispered.

The feeling of having to keep up the charade of respect left her for a moment and she perched herself on the edge of his bed, feeling utterly defeated.

"How could he have kept this from me?" she murmured.

"Do you think he saved Morgana?"

Their words left their lips at the same moment, and they looked up at each other from opposite sides of the room.

"Yes. I believe he did." She answered first.

No matter what she thought about Merlin's magic, about his betrayal, she knew that he'd gotten to Morgana in time to save her.

She had to believe that, or all hope would be lost to her.

His sacrifice, revealing his magic, would have been for nothing.

As that thought entered her mind she realized that she didn't quite care that he had magic, he would still be her friend.

He would still be Merlin, Arthur's bumbling manservant.

She didn't know though, if the prince would view it quite the same way.

A pregnant pause surrounded them once again and they tensed as the door was flung open, a guard standing awkwardly at attention.

"Sire," he glanced at Guinevere who quickly stood up. "It's your father. Gaius has asked that you come to his chambers."

Arthur nodded and bowed his head.

* * *

Striker moved quickly through the forest, threading around trees and brush without a sound.

His hooves were silent as they pounded across the soft earth, as were Nila's.

Morgana was limp and heavy in Merlin's hold, her head resting in the hollow of his throat.

Her long fingers gripped at his sleeve as they rode on, and in her sleep she moaned in pain.

His heart constricted and he tightened his arm around her waist, urging Striker on faster.

He knew it wasn't healthy to ride through the night, but there was no other choice.

He didn't have any healing spells for Morgana's burns, and if they stopped for the night and made camp, he wasn't sure if she would make it to Ealdor.

He'd heard from Guinevere that the guards had given her very little food whilst she'd been in the dungeons, and from the circles under her eyes it was obvious she hadn't been sleeping.

Coupled with the stress of the execution her body had taken a heavy toll, and he was scared for her life.

Striker was a strong horse, he'd led many a man into battle and he was confident in his ability to ride on until they reached Ealdor, until they reached safety.

It wouldn't be long now, just a few hours.

They were nearly there.

* * *

Gaius looked up solemnly as the prince entered his father's bed chambers, his gaze glued on the frail form of his unrecognizable father.

Small and prone King Uther lay on his back, propped up by pillows.

He looked nothing like the strong man he was so used to seeing upon the throne, the ruler of Camelot.

A smile managed to work its way onto his lips as he noticed his son, a hand raised.

"Arthur. Come here my son."

He took a seat at his bed side, reluctantly taking his hand.

A part of him hated his father more than anything.

He'd nearly had his sister executed today.

But another part recognized that it was only because he was fearful, of magic.

What if Morgause had been telling the truth that day he'd gone to her?

He hated to even entertain the thought after what she had done to Morgana, but perhaps she had been truthful when she'd showed him his mother.

What if his father saw magic as a tool, and used it for his own gain when it suited him?

Who was he to decide whether it was used properly?

Who was he to decide who was to live and die?

These two parts of him warred against one another, screaming inside him.

"I want you to know how sorry I am. I'm sorry there was a sorcerer living right among us, and I wasn't able to protect you from him."

His jaw tightened.

As if Merlin would hurt him, he couldn't even entertain the thought.

At least not now, not here, where his father could take his doubts and twist them to his advantage.

"It's alright. I'm safe." He murmured.

He shook his head, his brown shining with a thin veil of sweat.

"No. I've only ever tried to do right by you and Morgana, but I have failed. I'm sorry for that."

He turned away, coughing violently.

Arthur looked up at Gaius who frowned, dabbing at the king's face with a cool damp cloth.

"I'm sorry sire. He'll be gone soon."

He nodded, squeezing his father's hand in his.

For a moment he allowed himself to forget everything.

He thought only of the man who had raised him, who'd taken care of him his whole life.

He remembered the day Morgana had come to stay with them as a child; she'd been so lost in her grief of losing her father that she'd barely been able to speak without crying.

Uther had leant down and touched her cheek, and assured her that she would always have a family in Camelot.

The three of them had become a tight knit group, and it pained him to remember how close they'd been.

Yes, his father had been the ruler of Camelot, but he'd always been a good father to them.

They'd take rides through the forest and have picnics by the lake, indulging in merriment they thought they'd know for the rest of their lives.

When had it all changed?

He thought of these memories but he couldn't recall when they'd become just that, memories.

And now here he sat by his father's side, watching as he took his last breath.

"I forgive you." he lied.

There was no point, no possible reason to torment him as he died.

What would he gain? What could he possibly gain by causing him to suffer in his last moments?

His father smiled, truly smiled, and breathed in.

He didn't breathe out.

* * *

An owl hooted overhead and Merlin's head jerked up, he'd nearly dozed off.

Striker had slowed to a plodding walk, his sides heaving as he recovered from the long journey they'd had thus far.

Merlin narrowed his eyes as he caught sight of something up ahead, a dark shadow looming closer.

As the horse came to a stop he could just make out a light, dim in the night but most definitely coming from a house.

Weary but hopeful he slid to the ground, taking care to keep Morgana in the saddle.

She leaned forward onto the neck of the horse, her arms circling his neck loosely.

He could make out his mother's house, just on the edge of the forest.

Merlin took Strikers reins and led him on, keeping to the shadows so as not to alert any of the other villagers to their presence.

There was a shack just behind the garden of the house, and it was the perfect place to store the horses for the night.

Hurriedly he ushered them inside, pulling Morgana down into his arms.

She cried out in pain and he winced, carrying her as quickly as he could to the door at the back.

He would come back later and unsaddle the horses, for now she was his priority.

With his foot he kicked at the door, praying that his mother would wake and come to him.

"Who's there?" a nervous voice whispered, and he sent a silent prayer to whoever was watching over him.

"It's me, mother." The door swung open, and the excited grin on her face dissipated.

She held a lantern in one hand, the skirt of her dressing gown in the other.

At the sight of Morgana she locked her jaw and stepped aside, all business.

"Bring her through here, to the cot."

She shut the door behind him, locking it with a quick definitive flick of her wrist.

Hunith darted over to the hearth and lit a fire, lifting a heavy cast iron pot of water onto the hook above the flames.

Merlin lowered Morgana onto the cot he'd once slept upon, cradling her head until it touched the pillow.

She moaned as her body settled, her fingers unfurling from their hold on his shirt.

He knelt down beside her, taking her hand in his.

She looked up at him through half-lidded eyes, sweat gathering on her brow.

"Here we are." Hunith appeared at his side, a cool damp cloth in her hand.

She placed it across Morgana's forehead, cooing quietly as she whimpered.

"Where is she hurt?" she murmured.

Hunith looked up at her son for the first time since he'd stepped foot inside her home, taking note of his worried gaze.

"Her feet are burnt, and her hands. I should be able to heal her, I just-" he broke off, rubbing at his head in frustration. "I can't remember the spell…"

She placed a hand on his cheek, stroking softly with her thumb.

"It's alright. We'll do the best we can."

He nodded, taking comfort in his mother's presence.

It had been so long, too long, since he'd been back in Ealdor with her.

"Now, I need you to get me some herbs from the garden." She moved down Morgana's body, lifting her dress to her calves.

As she assessed the damage and rattled off the list of herbs she needed Merlin stood and retreated to the door.

He looked back to see Morgana watching him go, her burnt hand outstretched in his direction.

With difficulty he swallowed past the lump in his throat and walked outside, blinking back tears.

If she didn't make it…

He shook his head, he couldn't even entertain the idea of it.

She was good, Morgana was a good person who'd been dealt a bad hand in her life.

She didn't deserve to die like this, to die at all.

* * *

The sound of bells tolling the news of their king's death rang out in the dark of the night, waking the sleeping citizens of Camelot from their slumber.

Arthur stood by his window, awake as he had been since the moment his father had taken his last breath.

He almost expected to see Merlin down in the courtyard, fumbling about with his armor or something.

The sight of his servant and… friend, disappearing in a whirlwind of magic wouldn't leave his mind; nor would the image of his sister burning at the stake.

It had only been a few hours since he'd watched them vanish together, and it grew and twisted in his mind like a disease.

He rubbed at his temples, moving away from the window in a daze.

Guinevere stood just outside his door, her hand raised as she struggled to get the courage to knock.

The guard at the end of the hall watched her with muted amusement and she forced a smile in his direction, biting her lip and forcing her fist to do a quick rap.

Arthur appeared in the doorway, he didn't even bother to pretend to smile.

"Guinevere."

"Arthur."

There was a pregnant pause and he stepped aside, gesturing for her to enter his chambers.

She found herself wringing her wrists as she did so, standing awkwardly in the center of the room.

Candles were lit, bathing the room in a warm golden glow, and the curtains were drawn tight across every window but one.

She couldn't help but notice it was the one that overlooked the semi-dismantled platform, the burned and gnarled wood in a pile beside it.

When it had become obvious Merlin and Morgana weren't attacking Camelot the citizens had gone to work putting out the growing blaze, dousing it in a matter of moments.

She'd almost expected them to emerge from the ashes when it was done, but no.

"It's late." Arthur murmured, pulling her abruptly from her distracted thoughts.

She nodded, turning to face him.

He'd closed the door behind her and his face was drawn, worry lines that shouldn't be on someone so young decorating his face.

"I know. I'm sorry, I just…" she trailed off, looking down at her hands.

Arthur walked towards her, grasping her fingers gently.

"It's alright. I think I understand."

"You do?"

He nodded, leading her to the table by the hearth.

They sat and he released her hand, and she struggled to keep the selfish disappointment from her face.

"You're confused. As am I. I just don't understand how he could keep something like that from me? I thought we were, friends." He muttered the last bit of his sentence bitterly, and she couldn't help but narrow her eyes.

"With all due respect _sire_, why would he?"

He looked up, startled at her tone which had grown somewhat angry.

"I beg your pardon?"

"He is but a servant, and could you honestly tell me you wouldn't have said a word to your father if he had? How was he to know he could trust you to keep his secret?"

"I'm his friend, he should've trusted me!"

"But do you trust him? If he had told you would you have thought he was an innocent man? You have had time to think about this, and he isn't here to speak with, it's easy to say these things when he's not here to say them to." She sat back, deflated and ashamed.

Arthur gazed off into the flames, his hand fisted on his thigh.

"I'm sorry, I spoke out of term…" she stood, straightening her skirts hurriedly. "I should go."

"No." he got to his feet, grabbing her hand.

She looked up at him sadly, shaking her head. "I'm sorry. I just… I can't bear to think that I will never get the chance to ask him any of these things. What if he never comes back? And what if… what if Morgana is dead? Did I get her back only to lose her again?" she whispered.

He frowned, he hadn't thought of what Guinevere could be feeling throughout this whole ordeal.

It was selfish of him to think only of his own feelings.

Without much thought as to what he was doing he pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her surprised form, resting his cheek on the top of her head.

Startled at his actions Guinevere was stiff for a moment before softening, snaking her own arms around his back.

They held tight to each other for a few moments, taking pleasure in the solitude.

In all of this hysteria and magic they each needed someone to be anchored to, someone they could trust.

And though it was all very horrible and neither knew of Merlin and Morgana's whereabouts, they each smiled, just a bit, in the other's hold.

* * *

Morgana had fallen asleep some time ago, her feet and hands wrapped in cloth with a special herb mixture swathed across the skin.

His mother had taken very good care of her so far, and had started a broth above the hearth.

After his collection of the herbs he'd taken care of the horses, which included brushing them down and feeding them, before slinking back inside.

He'd watched his mother work over Morgana nervously, gnawing at his lip and trying to think up the healing spell he couldn't seem to remember anymore.

It upset him to no end that he had the ability to take away her pain but couldn't, all because the stress of the day had made it hard for him to remember his teachings.

Shortly after his mother had finished Morgana had succumbed to her exhaustion and fallen asleep again, covered in a multitude of blankets.

Hunith was positive Morgana had a fever, and she needed to sweat it out.

Now his mother sat opposite him by the hearth, watching him carefully.

"Are you ready to talk?" she murmured, placing her empty bowl aside and folding her hands in her lap.

Merlin sighed; he might as well dive right in.

"I outed myself to all of Camelot."

* * *

**so yeah, it's been a while. i'm struggling with the lost one and i've been pretty distracted with some personal stuff in my own life. i'll try and be better with updates, i already have the next ch for this one almost done so it shouldnt be too long. please leave reviews, they really make my day. thanks and ill be back soon. xoxo**


	8. Chapter 8

**Third Person's Point of View**

"I have to go back to Camelot."

It had taken all but an hour of the night to explain everything that had happened, from the brutal way he'd poisoned Morgana to her return and ultimate sacrifice.

Hunith had taken it all in silence, lips pursed in obvious disapproval throughout most of his tale.

They'd been quiet for some time now, watching the flames dance in the hearth.

Morgana shifted restlessly in the pregnant pause that erupted after he spoke, a hushed moan slipping from her.

"What are you going back for?" she finally murmured, placing the mug she held on the ground beside her.

He sighed, glancing to the cot in the corner where Morgana was struggling with her fitful sleep.

Her eyebrows were pinched in pain and her skin glistened in the light from the fire, coated in a sheen of sweat.

His mother had explained that the stress on her body – from the treatment she'd endured in the holding cell, the execution, as well as the long ride – had left her vulnerable.

She'd caught a fever that turned her skin clammy yet had her crying of a burning heat, and twisted her insides until she retched what little food she had left from her stomach.

His mother was concerned, and he was roiling with guilt.

"My spell book, the one Gaius gave to me. It can heal her." He closed his eyes, rubbing exhaustedly at his forehead. "I owe her this."

Hunith simply nodded, smoothing her fingers over the crease in the blanket draped across her lap.

"I understand. You'll go in the morning; you need a good night's rest."

He knew there was no point arguing with her, it would be for naught.

So he obeyed, laying out his blanket by Morgana's bedside where he slept through the night.

* * *

Hunith watched from the doorway as her son disappeared through the trees early the following morning, the large black horse delving into a swift gallop as the sun rose in the sky.

She bit her lip, thinking the worst of his return to Camelot.

She had the utmost faith in her son's capabilities, but she couldn't help worrying over him.

What if Arthur was more like his father than Merlin truly realized?

What if his good intentions only got him into more trouble?

What if –

Morgana coughed violently from inside, cutting through her dark, spiraling thoughts.

She cleared her throat and slowly shut the door, latching the wood board across it as a precaution.

The last thing she needed was an unexpected visitor.

Morgana moaned and she hurried to her side, taking the cloth from her forehead and refreshing it in the bucket of cold water at her bedside.

The fever had grown worse through the night, and she shivered continuously.

Hunith frowned at the state of her long black hair as it got in the way, gathering it expertly into a long braid that draped over her shoulder.

She tucked away the strands that still stuck to the light sheen of sweat that covered her face, hooking them behind her ears.

Low and keening she cried out again, shakily grabbing at Hunith's wrist.

Her eyes opened, so pale blue they resembled ice, and she gazed blankly up at her.

"Why?" she whispered raggedly.

"Why what sweet one?" she cooed.

Her fingers tightened around her wrist, weakly pulling her closer.

"Why didn't he let me die?"

Hunith was silent, gathering her wits she'd so abruptly lost.

Merlin had told her everything that had happened, he had told her he wasn't sure if he believed Morgana's story, he had told her he wasn't sure if he believed she meant the things she'd said.

What he hadn't told her was what had motivated him to vault onto the platform and whisk her away from the flames.

She opened her mouth to respond and realized Morgana had dropped her hand, having fallen back to sleep.

Hunith smiled sadly down at her, brushing the backs of her fingers across her cheek.

She wasn't sure what her son knew or believed, but she believed that Morgana was nothing but a young, lonely, scared girl who'd been used as a pawn all her life.

She deserved a second chance, and she was going to give it to her in any way she could.

Hunith stood and refreshed the cloth one last time before grabbing a shawl from a hook by the door, wrapping it around her shoulders to ward off a sudden chill.

She prayed, to any god that would listen, to keep her son safe on his journey, and to keep Morgana alive so that she may see the good things in life she had yet to experience.

* * *

**1 ½ days since Merlin left Ealdor**

**3 days since Morgana's execution**

**Midafternoon**

With nerves he hadn't know he was capable of feeling Arthur rode out through the gates of Camelot, cantering off the trail and through the trees.

He was heading for the meadow where he'd left two of his finest horses for Morgana and Merlin only three days ago to aid in their escape.

It had been one of his most rebellious acts under Uther's reign, and he'd had the utmost hopes that his plan would work flawlessly.

Now, he wasn't quite sure what to hope for.

A part of him hoped they were gone, that they'd succeeded in their escape and taken off days ago.

Another part of him hoped that they'd stayed; opting to wait in the shadows until he sought them out, ready to explain.

Storm snorted irritably as he jerked him to a sudden stop, ears pricked attentively.

The meadow was just ahead, and he saw nothing.

The horses were gone, as was Morgana and the sorcerer he'd unknowingly called his friend.

Arthur ran a gloved hand over his hair, absently smiling at the absence of his crown.

His coronation had taken place the day before.

He had nary a moment to himself now, though it wasn't such a horrible thing as he would have expected.

Much of his time as king thus far had been spent with Guinevere.

She seemed to be the only one who understood how he was feeling.

The betrayal and paranoia that plagued him, and how it suddenly seemed impossible to trust anyone.

Gwen felt the same but to a lesser degree, she seemed to understand Merlin's motives, even empathize with him.

It served to cause numerous arguments between them but at the same time he enjoyed their spats.

Their relationship hadn't been like this before.

It had been sweet and gentle and tentative, new love at its most beautiful.

But he couldn't find it in himself to miss the way it had been.

Now she was his challenger, his confidant, his advisor.

It had only been three days but he felt so much more in love with her than he ever had before.

She was still the same Guinevere she'd always been; only now she was more… free.

He was surprised he hadn't noticed the same oppressiveness of his father lingering over the kingdom as it did himself and Morgana before.

Without the former king around she seemed so much more strong and brave, while still her same sweet self.

Storm nickered, striking through his dazed thoughts.

A branch snapped nearby and his fingers clenched around the reins, his other hand reaching for the hilt of his sword.

"Who goes there?" he called, his voice strong and loud.

He was not one to be intimidated easily, though he should have known better than to come out alone.

Arthur cursed himself, why couldn't he have a single day of solitude without his life being threatened?

Storm nickered again, chomping excitedly at the bit.

"What is wrong with you?" he muttered.

"I'm unarmed!" a man called.

His eyes narrowed and he tightened his grip, peering ahead through the trees.

"Come out slowly." He ordered, completely untrusting of their supposed "vulnerability".

He prepared himself for anything, a sorcerer ready to threaten his life, a bandit pretending to be on his own while having him surrounded in secret.

He didn't prepare himself to see Merlin come riding into the meadow, looking weary atop his second best stallion, Striker.

Reflexively he relaxed his hold on his sword, before reminding himself what he'd done.

"Stay where you are."

Merlin rolled his eyes and pulled Striker to a stop, raising his hand as a peace offering.

"I'm sorry Arthur."

"What for? Lying to me? I suppose I should be used to it by now, nearly everyone does it."

Merlin shook his head, slowly dismounting.

He patted Striker's neck, looping his reins around a low branch.

"Arthur, I understand –"

"I don't think you do. I trusted you, like an idiot. You were supposed to be my friend, one of the very few people I trust in my life. Then it turns out, you're nothing but a liar."

He paused for a moment, gathering the anger that was quickly boiling over.

"Arthur –"

"I didn't say you could speak. Now tell me, should I have you hanged for treason against the crown? Or are you prepared to convince me that you're innocent?"

Merlin sighed, his eyes lowered shamefully.

"I know I was wrong to keep my powers a secret from you, and I am so sorry. But, I don't have time to explain."

Arthur balked, eyes narrowed as a vicious rage blurred his vision red.

He slid from Storm's back, barely sparing him a glance as he stalked forward, sliding his sword from the sheath at his hip.

"You have the audacity to lie and trick me the entirety of time I've known you, and now you deny me the explanation I rightly deserve? I am your king. Now, I. Want. Answers." He growled menacingly.

Merlin held his ground, jaw clenched. "Morgana is sick." He said simply.

Arthur's gaze lightened some, but his fingers stayed clenched, his knuckles white with the ferocity of his grip on the sword.

"Explain."

"The stress of her containment, the execution, everything, and it left her weak. She caught a fever shortly after we reached Ealdor. My mother's caring for her, but I fear without treatment she won't make it much longer." He spoke quickly, pleadingly.

He had to understand, Morgana was his sister, and he had to listen.

Arthur barely held in a growl as he sheathed his sword in one fluid motion, his cape whipping around him as he strode back towards Storm who'd obediently stayed where he was.

"You'll follow me to Gaius. Keep your head covered."

Merlin nodded eagerly, barely managing to vault onto Striker's back as Arthur rode forward.

He tugged the hood of his cloak over his hair, hiding his face in the depths of the dark fabric.

* * *

Arthur was silent as he led him through the halls towards Gaius' chambers, fuming.

Morgana was the only reason he was agreeing to help him, he had to keep reminding himself of this.

The castle was mostly empty as it was midday already and most everyone was preparing for the dinner to come.

Two guards were posted at the entrance to each hall, but that was as far as the extent went.

Nothing said would be overheard; he had to make a move before he lost his chance.

He slowed a bit, moving to allow Merlin room at his side.

"Why would you decide to learn magic in Camelot, how could you have been so stupid?" he'd been burning to ask him this very question, the curiosity at his sheer stupidity circulating through his mind.

Merlin sighed, as if preparing himself. "I didn't learn. I was born with it."

Arthur stopped, and it took him a moment before he noticed.

Merlin turned, walking back the few steps towards him.

"That's impossible. No one is just born with it." He shook his head, rejecting of this insane claim.

"I was, as was Morgana. It's in our blood. I was gravitating candle sticks before I could walk. It's not something I was taught."

Arthur braced a hand against the wall, the other going to his head.

"You're lying."

"What reason do I have? You know of my magic, what difference would it make to you how I came to have it?"

"My father told me…" he trailed off.

He should've known better by now than to believe anything his father had told him, if he'd kept Morgana's birthright from him why not this as well?

"I never realized."

"You were never told. It's not your fault Arthur, none of it is."

He looked up at Merlin, his expression so earnest, so sincere.

"How do I know if I can ever trust you again? You used magic behind my back, kept it a secret from me, how do I know you won't betray me?"

He seemed to take a moment to think out his answer. "You don't truly. I suppose time is the only proof I can provide you."

Arthur nodded, sated for the moment when a thought occurred to him.

"What did you mean about Morgana? When you said it's in your blood."

"Morgana was born with magic as well. It's what her dreams are; they're visions, of the future."

"That day she came out in her nightgown, she was yelling about the questing beast. She really did see me die, didn't she?"

Merlin smiled sadly, "She tried to warn you. I only suspected her magic then, I thought I could protect you myself should something happen. I wasn't careful enough though."

He turned away then, pulling his hood back up and continuing on down the hall.

Arthur waited a moment before following.

Gaius' door was open, and he stood by a series of shelves, trailing his fingers over the spines of a few books.

"Gaius." He turned, his prepared and rehearsed smile fading at the hooded figure.

"My king. Who is your guest?"

Merlin pulled back his hood, smiling at Gaius' awed expression.

"Merlin." He whispered, rushing forward to wrap his young ward in a tight hug.

"Gaius." He returned the embrace wholeheartedly.

They pulled back, and Gaius promptly smacked the back of his head.

"Ouch! What was that for?"

"For being an idiot. You're lucky Arthur seems to have forgiven you. If Uther had lived…" he trailed off, seeming to remember just who was in the room with them. "My king –"

"No apologies necessary Gaius." He waved a hand dismissively.

They were quiet and Merlin shook his head, unapologetic in his explanation. "I had to Gaius. I couldn't let her die."

He nodded, somewhat begrudgingly. "I understand. I didn't truly expect you to. I saw it in your eyes that night, when you promised not to put yourself in any danger."

Merlin shrugged sheepishly, "I've never been very good at keeping my promises."

Gaius laughed. "That much is true."

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence and Merlin dismissed himself, retrieving the spell book from under his bed.

"I should be going. Morgana doesn't have much time left." He murmured, eager to return to her but at the same moment saddened at leaving his home once again.

Gaius nodded understandingly and hugged him once more, handing him a light burlap sack.

"Some food for the journey."

"I'm coming with you." Arthur stepped forward, his fierce tone leaving no room for discussion.

"My lord, who will watch over the kingdom in your stead?" Gaius exclaimed nervously.

Merlin shook his head, "He's right Arthur. You have to stay here, you're needed."

"This isn't a discussion. Morgana is my sister, and I'm going. I have failed her too many times in the past, not again." He placed a hand on Gaius' shoulder. "You are to tell no one I'm gone. If it asked, claim that I'm taking care of urgent business in my chambers."

Gaius closed his eyes solemnly and nodded, "Yes my lord."

"I'm coming as well." The three of them turned at Gwen's voice.

She stood tall in the doorway, shoulders back and arms crossed over her chest.

"Guinevere –"

She raised a hand, cutting off Arthur's obvious intentions to dissuade her.

"Morgana is my friend, and if you're gone there is nothing for me here. I have no duties to attend to any longer, and I deserve a… vacation." She smiled serenely. "Besides, I think I deserve an explanation as well."

Her eyes landed on Merlin and he looked away sheepishly, scratching at his chin.

She nodded at their accepting silence. "I'll meet you at the gates. I must change." She turned away, her skirts twirling about her legs, and walked off down the hall.

* * *

Night had fallen hours ago and a chill had descended over the small group, their horses winded from the unending running.

They'd taken a few moments to walk, allowing their mounts a moment's relaxation.

Arthur couldn't seem to stop watching Merlin, as if he expected magic to sprout from his very being.

Merlin in turn couldn't seem to stop watching Guinevere, who was avoiding eye contact with the both of them.

"You weren't going to tell me you'd seen Merlin at all, were you?" she'd accused Arthur early on, angrily twisting the reins around her fingers.

He'd shaken his head, unapologetically confirming her fears.

From then on it had been an uneasy silence that covered over them, like a blanket draped across their backs.

Gwen cleared her throat and Merlin jumped. "I'm sorry!" he shouted.

She looked at him in surprise at his outburst but quickly smiled, laughing gently. "Thank you."

He frowned, "What?"

"All I wanted was an apology. I think I deserve it." She murmured.

Merlin nodded, pushing into a canter once again, catching up to Arthur who rode a short distance ahead of them.

They were only a short time away from Ealdor, and daybreak as well.

Arthur was agitated, that much was obvious, and he never slowed.

The guilt was eating him alive, at not being able to stop the execution, at not being able to save her.

If she died, her blood would be on his hands.

He stewed over the fact that she was his sister, his own flesh and blood.

His father had lied to him, denied him the truth he deserved to know as he always had.

He'd spent so long defending his father's actions to Morgana, explaining to her the reasoning behind the executions he'd doled out when unknowingly he'd been condemning her for the same thing.

She held magic in her veins, without a decision on her part.

Born with it she'd suffered in silence, and all along when he'd called the people who used it evil she'd taken his word for herself.

The one thing he didn't understand was how he couldn't have known?

She'd told him of her dreams since they were children, the nightmares that had sent her running to his chambers late in the night.

They'd huddled under the blankets as she told him of the latest one, the death or tragedy that would take place one day.

He'd believed her then, but had never suspected magic.

And as they'd grown older they were fewer and farer between, and he found himself visited in the night less frequently.

He should have noticed when she distanced herself from him, hiding in her chambers more often than not, bored and quiet at the banquets that were held.

It wasn't like her, and he didn't even see it.

How could he have been so blind and uncaring, so involved in his own feelings?

"Arthur." He startled, Storm shying away from Gwen and Merlin.

"Sorry." He murmured hollowly.

They exchanged a glance and Merlin pointed ahead, "We're here."

He looked up, dazed.

Hadn't they been farther away a moment ago?

Merlin and Gwen rode on ahead of him and he stopped, suddenly plagued by another heart wrenching thought.

What if Morgana blamed him for not being able to stop the execution?

"Arthur come on!" Gwen called, twisting in her saddle to look back at him.

He rode up beside her and they dismounted, leaving the horses by the shack where Morgana's horse was being kept.

Merlin put a finger to his lips and knocked quietly.

Hunith whipped the door open with a flourish, cheeks flushed and eyes red with the tears that burned her eyes.

"Thank goodness, she's gotten worse." She stepped aside and ushered them in.

Morgana lay on the cot in the corner, moaning in pain.

Her one hand hung over the side of the bed, nearly scraping the floor, her other clutching at her stomach.

What had once been a light sheen of sweat now drenched her ivory skin, dampening the fabric of the white sheath nightgown she wore.

Her black braid had been pulled out leaving her dark hair fanning out around her, her eyes clenched shut.

"What happened?" Merlin fell to his knees at her side, taking her hand in his and using the other to wipe at her brow.

"It's been progressing steadily. The fever will take her before day is upon us." She murmured.

"It's alright now Morgana, I can heal you." he whispered assuredly, pulling the thick spell book from the satchel at his side.

Arthur and Gwen stood by the door, their fingers naturally intertwining.

Their shared fears drew them together, and they squeezed each other so tightly their knuckles turned white.

"What can I do?" Hunith kneeled beside him, clutching anxiously at his shoulder.

"Hold the book for me."

She did as she was told, and a silence passed between them as he flipped through the pages and finally found the one he'd been searching for.

Merlin cleared his throat and leaned over Morgana, one hand on either side of her face.

His thumbs caressed her temples and his eyes turned from their normal blue to a shade of gold that resembled Arthur's crown, zeroing in on her face with concentration.

Gwen was transfixed as he murmured words in a foreign tongue, his voice oddly powerful and commanding.

Morgana's back arched and she cried out, her hands clamping onto his wrists as what seemed like a wave of air rippled over her.

She fell back onto the bed as it dissipated, her breath leaving her in a gentle whoosh.

Her chest rose and fell steadily as her eyes closed, her hands falling to her sides.

The color was slowly returning to her face, and Merlin laughed joyfully.

"It worked." He whispered, almost as if he hadn't quite expected it to, though he'd seemed so sure of himself earlier.

His hands still held her face and he trailed them through her hair as he drew away.

Arthur stepped forward uncertainly and he stood up, scratching at his jaw awkwardly.

"I'm going to, take care of the horses."

He vanished through the door and Hunith watched him go, shaking her head slowly.

She was surprised he hadn't already realized his feelings for the girl, for as she saw it there was deep feeling and affection on his part.

Gwen observed as Arthur took Merlin's spot at Morgana's bed side, shakily taking her hand in his.

She decided it was best to attend to her other friend, and leave brother and sister to themselves for a moment.

With a quick glance to Hunith who was attending the fire she stepped outside, closing the door gently behind her.

Merlin stood brushing his hand over Striker's dampened coat, having removed the tack from his back.

"Merlin." She said his name quietly.

He looked up, and she could see the red ringed around his eyes.

"I thought I wouldn't be able to save her. Just for a second. The fear I had when I thought it, it was like nothing I've ever felt before. I think that's what scares me more than anything." He blurted.

She smiled softly, skirting around the horses front to stand at his side. "Merlin, it's alright."

"No it's not. I did this, don't you see? If I had just told her about my magic the night she came to me, none of this would have happened. Morgause wouldn't have had the chance to do what she did to her, and I wouldn't have had to –" he broke off, tipping his head forward.

"Maybe things would be different Merlin, but you can't think like that. Right now she is alive and getting better, she's with her brother and soon magic will be restored and she'll back in Camelot where she belongs, as will you. Everything's going to be alright." She pulled him towards her, wrapping him into a comforting hug.

Merlin embraced her wholeheartedly, breathing deeply in order to calm himself.

Everything was going to be alright.

It had to be.

* * *

Gwen had followed Merlin outside and Hunith was tending to the fire in the hearth across the small expanse of the home, leaving Arthur alone with Morgana.

He sat beside her cot clutching her hand in his, his head resting on the bed itself.

She was sleeping deeply or so Hunith had assured him, seeming to sense he wasn't quite ready to talk with her.

And yet… he found himself wishing she was awake.

He wanted to explain everything to her, how foolish he had been for never connecting the dots between her magic and the dreams she'd had, he wanted to apologize for never truly being there as a brother should for his sister.

He wanted her to understand that he'd never meant to hurt her, and that he saw now how horribly stupid he'd been for never standing up to his father like he should have.

She was wrong when she'd told him he was a better man than his father.

If he was he would've done something long ago, wouldn't he?

Arthur closed his eyes, the exhaustion of the day coming over him.

He distantly felt a blanket settle over his shoulders but he was too far gone to discern between reality and the dreams that had taken over, plaguing his mind with visions of two children dancing in a field.

How could he have drifted so far from himself?

Who had he become?

* * *

**_so surprise! this one's a lot sooner than all my others right? anyways... so this is longer than usual and although it was kind of boring it was just a necessary bunch of thoughts and realizations that needed to take place. next chapter should be more exciting. as always, please review and as always, my apologies to my the lost one followers, i've started a plot line and i'm working on it. you should see some progress soon. ciao! i love you all!_**


	9. Chapter 9

**Nightmare**

_Darkness was all around her, in her, consuming her._

_There was nothing to indicate she was even alive aside from the feel of her heartbeat beneath her palm and the sound of her ragged breathing in her ears. _

_The smell of dirt and piss made her want to empty her stomach, but she knew there was no use giving in to the urge as it would only add to her torture. _

_Where was she?_

_Who was she?_

_She couldn't remember anything about herself or why she was here anymore. _

_The darkness had swallowed her whole along with any sense of identity. _

_She wept silently in the dark cold dwellings, pleading and praying with any God that existed to save her from such eternal despair. _

"_Help me…" she whimpered, her voice had stopped working long ago. _

_Her screams had proven fruitless, what point was there?_

_No one heard._

**Third Person's Point of View**

Morgana awoke with a jolt, one hand clutching at the blanket above her stomach.

She breathed in deep, her eyes adjusting to the dim light the flickering fire at the other end of the room gave.

There was no darkness, no swallowing pit of black.

She was here, but, where was **here** exactly?

She sat up slowly, gingerly, all too aware of the deep throbbing pain in the back of her head.

Fingers tightened around her other hand and she looked down to see Arthur, clutching her like a babe might to his mother.

He sat on the dirt floor with his head resting on her cot, a blanket draped over his shoulders as he slept on.

There was a flicker of a memory that arose within her at the sight of him, of long ago times spent in one another's chambers, seeking comfort they couldn't find elsewhere as little ones.

A fond smile stretched across her cracked lips and she slipped her hand from his, carefully swinging her legs over the side of the cot.

She looked across the room to where Gwen and a familiar woman slept under blankets and furs, and then to Merlin, in a chair in front of the fire.

Morgana couldn't quite tell whether he was asleep or not but she stood anyway, one hand against the wall as a wave of dizziness swept over her.

"What are you doing?"

Merlin had stood and taken a step forward, gazing at her with those naturally worried eyes of his.

She held up a hand, she didn't even bother to ask him to stop.

Thoughts swirled around her mind like some kind of whirling storm, building and building until the moment lightning struck.

Weary she made her way to the door and pushed out, stepping out onto a small stone pathway bordered on either side by blooming flowers and plants of all sorts.

The woods were just ahead of her, and she stared evenly into the night.

The sun would rise soon, the sky had turned that strange shade of dark blues and reds it only did when the light was about to come up.

She sighed at the thought, unready, and unwilling, to face the new day.

A touch on the shoulder shocked her but she stayed still as a rough spun shawl was draped about her shoulders.

She turned and Merlin smiled weakly at her, and she nodded in thank you.

There was a silence, a tense awkward silence that made her skin boil in anger.

She hadn't felt such anger since before Morgause's death, when it had been placed on the shoulders of primarily Arthur and Uther and Gaius.

Now it was directed solely in Merlin's direction.

This bastard of a man who'd kept the worst secret from her, in some ways worse than Uther's.

He hadn't told her of his magic, he'd let her go on feeling as if she was going insane.

The visions she'd had, the nights she awoke to fires blazing up her curtains, how was it to be explained?

All she'd wanted was for someone, him, to acknowledge what it meant.

To give her a reason not to feel so alone in a world where having magic meant death, and had sent a terror through her heart of which the likes she'd never felt before.

"How are you feeling?" he uttered.

Morgana huffed.

To think, after everything that was all he could come up with?

"Well enough I suppose, for someone who's made it through their own execution." Her voice is cold, and she can't find it within her to feel sorry for it.

She's changed now, and as much as she'd like to go back to being the sweet innocent girl she was before everything happened she can't.

It's an impossibility.

There's a darkness inside her now, it began when Morgause placed her under her spell and had grown from that day forth.

She would never be able to be Lady Morgana, the King's ward again.

Forevermore she would be Morgana Pendragon, usurper, witch, murderer.

No reasoning would change that, why should she tiptoe around this when he hadn't tiptoed around her own grievances?

"You should stop stalling." She snapped suddenly. "I remember everything."

Merlin startled, his eyes widening.

She'd sounded so like the Morgana he'd come to know and had grown to hate.

The girl so determined to kill her own father and brother, all to gain herself a crown she didn't deserve.

Morgause had created her, and Morgause was dead now.

But did that mean the Morgana they feared and hated was dead as well?

Or was she simply aware of all that Morgause had done and still felt the same?

Internally he rebuked that theory; she had been so changed upon her return to Camelot.

She'd begged for his forgiveness while giving him her own, and bound upon the stake, approached by death, she'd thanked him for believing in her.

"I'm so sorry." He whispered.

He couldn't bring himself to meet her eyes, gazing instead at her shoulder.

Her collar bone rose sharply to the surface of her ivory skin as she sucked in a breath and she laughed humorlessly, shaking her head.

"For what?" she murmured, her voice oddly hollow.

He looked up then, into her cold ice blue-green eyes.

"For poisoning me? I've already forgiven you for that so why would you? Is it for hiding the truth from me? For allowing me to confide in you and saying nothing, when all the while you had the power to ease my fears? To let me know I wasn't alone…" she trailed off, her voice strong but quiet.

Morgana looked away, unable to look upon him any longer as tears pooled in her eyes.

They streamed across her cheeks and down to her jaw, wobbling uncertainly against her chin.

"I thought you were my friend." She whispered brokenly, the strength in her tone all but vanished.

"I'm so sorry Morgana," he stepped closer but she shied away, and he stopped. "I will be sorry for what I have done until the end of my days. I didn't think I had a choice. Gaius advised me against it, he thought we would both be safer from Uther. I thought-" he broke off, wiping at his face with a shaky palm.

What had he thought?

Why had ever listened to Gaius in the first place?

If he'd just told her she never would have felt Morgause was the only person she had to turn to and perhaps he could have prevented all the pain and heartache that had followed his lies.

Now Merlin could only wish that he had had the courage in the first place.

"You thought what?" she narrowed her eyes at him, arms wrapped tight about her chest. "That I would've given Uther your name to save my own skin? Do you really think so little of me?"

"Of course not." He murmured unthinkingly, scoffing at the mere thought of it.

"Then why?" she cried. "Why wasn't I good enough? What was it I did that made it so impossible for you to confide in me?"

"I was scared!" he shouted.

She jumped as his hands connected with her shoulders and he shook her, his anger and frustration clear.

"And you don't think I was scared?" she whispered.

His head drooped until his chin touched his chest and he gave the barest of nods.

"I know you were. Nothing I say will ever convey how sorry I am. And I am so sorry, Morgana." He looked up, taking a step closer as his hands traveled up to cup her face.

His thumbs stroked her soft skin and her breath caught in her throat at his touch, his face growing nearer.

He watched as her eyes fluttered closed and his heart kicked into high gear.

With a heavy sigh he touched his forehead to hers, his eyes nearly shut.

"I'm so sorry." His warm breath ghosted across her face and she breathed out dejectedly.

"I know."

"Morgana?" Merlin abruptly stepped away and his hands dropped to his sides.

She opened her eyes at the sound of Arthur's worried voice, a small smile stretched across her lips.

"Arthur." She murmured.

His eyes lit up as Merlin nervously moved towards the shed, and he rushed towards her.

She let out a surprised huff as his arms folded around her and he gasped, holding her back at arm's length.

"I'm sorry, did I hurt you?" his blue eyes roamed over her in obvious guilt and she laughed.

"No, you just surprised me."

"Oh." He blushed and she smiled, reaching up to comb her fingers through his hair.

"Hi."

He grinned, squeezing her back into another embrace. "Hello."

She held him tightly but couldn't help but look over his shoulder, gazing at Merlin's retreating form as he disappeared into the shed.

"I'm so glad you're alright." Arthur mumbled into her shoulder.

Guiltily she held him tighter, reminding herself that Arthur should have her full attention.

He'd obviously done everything he could to get her out of her execution, and he'd been so worried as to sleep by her side all night.

"I was so worried about you."

She smiled, pulling back enough to look up at him with a smirk. "Arthur, I didn't know you cared."

Arthur huffed and rolled his eyes, resisting the urge to muss up her hair. "Very funny."

She scrunched her nose playfully, holding him tighter once more.

"I missed you." she murmured.

All this time she'd been living a lie, distancing herself from him as she lost herself in the person Morgause had molded her to be.

It was astonishing to realize how lonely she'd been, how much she had truly missed the comfort Arthur's presence had given her since they were but children.

She could clearly remember the day she'd arrived in Camelot, donned in black for mourning and dreading her future, she'd rode into the courtyard.

Uther had helped her down from her horse – as she'd insisted on riding – and given her a stiff hug and kiss on the forehead before leaving for his duties, leaving her alone with the young prince.

All lanky limbs and too-long blonde hair he'd asked if she'd liked to play swords with him.

At his words she'd donned the first smile she could remember since hearing of her father's death on the battlefield.

He'd been making her smile ever since, and only now did she realize how much she had missed it.

"I missed you too." He returned.

Moving to his side she rested a hand in the crook of his arm and steered him towards the woods, taking slow steps forward.

"Tell me. How long have I slept?" the last thing she could remember was the sight of Merlin's eyes turning gold through the flames, and from there it was a blur.

She could only guess as to how long it had been since then.

"It's been three days since your…" he trailed off, avoiding the term she knew he didn't wish to speak.

She nodded, "I've been asleep for three days?"

"More like four." He gestured to the gradually rising sun and she smiled.

"I see. Have there been any changes in Camelot I should be made aware of?" she glanced up at him to see his jaw tighten and she frowned. "What is it?"

"Father is dead."

She stopped walking, her breath momentarily caught in her throat. "I see."

For a moment she was struck silent, thinking back on the man who'd had her so terrified for the better part of two years.

But she could also remember a time when there had been days between the three of them, when he'd taken time off from his important duties to truly be a father and spend time with them.

He'd been so kind once, and so playful it almost hurt to think of him as anything but.

But magic had changed him, made him cold and power hungry, and fearful enough to create a monster.

She felt a bit of sadness at the thought of his death, but most of all she was granted with the feeling of relief.

It was hard to feel as if she had lost a father, for the only real father she had ever known was Gorlois, and she had lost him long ago.

"I'm so sorry Arthur." She murmured.

"Don't be." He shook his head. "I feel as if he's been dead to me for some time. Magic made him blind to whom he once was. I can't be sad that such a tyrant is gone. He lied to me about my mother, he lied about you, he nearly killed you. How can I miss him?"

His words were true and his voice strong, but she could sense the deep sadness behind them.

"Don't pretend you can lie to me Arthur, anyone but me. I am your sister, in blood and bond. I know you better than anyone. It's alright to be sad." She murmured.

He nodded solemnly and swallowed, turning to her with a brave smile. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

She smirked sweetly, "You'd be lost."

Arthur rolled his eyes, knocking his shoulder playfully against hers. "You shall address me as 'your grace'." He said sternly.

Morgana laughed, "If you ever think I'll call you by that title you are simply dreaming."

He sighed and pouted mockingly. "I will spend the rest of my days trying to earn your respect I suppose."

There was a momentary pause and she looked up at him with a smile, "You already have it."

He looked down at her, his pout dissipating in the wake of her sincere words. "Truly?"

"Truly. How could I not give it you? You are my brother, you are brave, and you stand by what is right. You are King Arthur of Camelot." She said.

He shook his head and looked into the distance, "I was not there for you when you needed me most. I was blind to problems that weren't my own." He objected.

"No one is perfect. I have forgiven you, as you should forgive yourself. If you can see past my transgressions and my ways you should be able to see past your own."

Arthur gazed down at her, scrutinizing. "When did you grow so wise?"

She shrugged, turning them back towards the house. "I always have been, you're just now noticing."

He chuckled and she leaned her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes as she reveled in her newly found peace.

* * *

Merlin watched from across the room as Morgana and Guinevere hugged, smiling delightedly at one another as he laid the newly split bundle of wood beside the hearth.

"Thank you sweetheart." He glanced up at his mother and smiled, nodding dutifully.

Arthur sat upon Morgana's cot with a bowl of soup, watching the girls with a wistful grin.

It was strange to see Arthur like this, so happy and so free of burden for once in his young life.

"Merlin?" his mother placed a hand on his shoulder, rubbing gently to get his attention. "Are you alright?"

He realized he'd been staring and nodded sheepishly, a light blush flaring up across his face.

"Yes. Sorry."

She smiled knowingly and patted him once before turning away, busying herself with tidying up the small enclosure.

It was nearing midday, and still he was flushed with emotion from his "discussion" with Morgana.

He'd nearly kissed her, and he couldn't stop thinking of what could have transpired if he had.

Would she have pushed him away?

Would she have pulled him closer?

How could he even think of the possibility?

She was the Lady Morgana of Camelot, and too far above his station to ever consider being romantically interested.

It was a stretch to even approach friendship, though she didn't tend to do what was expected of a lady of her station, her relationship with Guinevere a prime example.

He cleared his throat and drifted away from the subject in his head, tuning in to the conversation at hand.

Guinevere had taken a seat beside Arthur and Morgana had settled into the chair by the fire, having turned it to face them.

"How soon will you be ready to travel do you suppose?" Arthur asked between sips.

Morgana cocked her head to the side, puzzled. "Where am I traveling to?"

"Camelot, of course."

She frowned, looking down to her hands in her lap. "I'm afraid I won't be returning with you." she murmured.

The silence in his childhood home was eerie, and he looked nervously from their faces to Morgana.

Guinevere shook her head uncertainly, "What do you mean? Why not?"

"Do you really think the people would welcome me with open arms after all that I've done?" she demanded, her voice hard.

Arthur looked away, "That wasn't you."

"That isn't the point. I can't return, and I'm not certain I want to. I find the bad memories seem to outweigh the good now." She murmured.

"Well, where will you stay?" Gwen mumbled hesitantly.

Her fingers twisted and knotted around the fabric of her borrowed dress, and she looked nervously at Hunith. "I was hoping I could earn my keep here. I don't have much experience with hard labor, but I'm certain I could learn."

Hunith simply laughed at her nervous questionings and took her chin in her hand, forcing their eyes to meet.

"I would be more than happy to have you here sweetling."

Morgana smiled and blushed at the hint of affection in her voice, looking back to Arthur with a saddened smile.

"Well, it seems everything's settled."

He nodded despairingly and placed his bowl aside, moving quickly through the door.

Morgana bowed her head, raking her hands through her hair.

Silently Gwen stood and followed him out, excusing herself politely.

Merlin watched through the window as she chased after him, touching his arm.

He leaned into her touch and they embraced, his head burrowing into the crook of her neck and shoulder.

He turned away, allowing them their privacy, and looked to Morgana.

She'd curled herself up as best she could in the chair, having turned it back towards the fire for warmth.

"Do you believe I'm doing the right thing?" she murmured.

At first he'd thought she was speaking to him but he realized she was gazing at his mother, desperately seeking her opinion.

"I think you're doing what is best for you, and I don't believe that's something you've done very often in your life."

Morgana nodded, though she didn't look quite appeased.

"Thank you Hunith." She stared back into the fire, flames flickering in her eyes.

Merlin couldn't help but wonder to himself what it would be like upon their return to Camelot.

They'd finally gotten the Morgana they'd always loved back, only to have her gone once again.

But perhaps the knowledge that she was still nearby would be enough.

Even as he thought that to himself he knew he was only trying the assure himself, and it would never work.

He was going to miss her more than he'd be able to bear.

Somehow, someway, Morgana had burrowed herself under his skin once again.

And he had a feeling it was going to be near to impossible to get her out.

* * *

**_hey i know it's been quite a while but i hope this will suffice for now. i'm trying my best and the conversation between Arthur and Morgana just felt so organic to me, that i pray it does to you guys too. anyways, please review i love constructive criticism. _**


	10. Chapter 10

_Hey there, I know, it's really short, and it's not much but I wanted to get it out there. Some things needed to be cleared up and I hope there's something that'll make everyone happy here... *hint hint* anyways, the next one will be longer, I promise. Stay tuned and don't forget to look at my tumblr. (link on my profile)_

* * *

**Third Person's Point of View**

Merlin blinked slowly, processing Arthur's speech as it concluded.

"So, I can come back? That's the main message... right?"

Arthur rolled his eyes but nodded, picking lazily at the food in his lap. "Yes. And I'll change the laws as soon as possible. Things will not be like before the purge though, they will be different. Magic will be more controlled, more monitored."

Merlin nodded eagerly, his food forgotten.

"Of course, Arthur..." he trailed off for a moment, his words caught on his tongue. "This is, this is amazing."

"Yeah well, don't think too much into it." he muttered, his cheeks stained red with the blush he tried to hide at his praise.

Merlin looked into his soup bowl, his smile stretched from ear to ear.

When Arthur had approached him and asked the girls to leave he'd been nervous, terrified really, that he would tell him he would not be returning to Camelot with him and Guinevere.

Instead, the King had rendered him speechless, informing him he _was _to return, and would only have to continue hiding for a little while longer.

It was everything he had hoped for.

His destiny, his future in Camelot, slowly but surely it was coming together.

* * *

"What do you think they're talking about?"

Morgana stiffened as she ran the brush through Nira's coat, clearing her throat as Gwen peered questioningly at her.

"I don't know."

Gwen cocked her head and came to her side, "Are you alright?"

Morgana flinched back as she reached out to touch her arm, and a hurt look flashed over her maid's face.

She attempted a smile and turned back to the horse, dragging the brush over her mane.

"I'm fine. Thank you."

Guinevere nodded, looking back in the direction of the house.

"They've been in there for some time. Should I go check on them?"

Morgana closed her eyes, resting her forehead on Nira's neck.

This talk of Merlin and her brother was exhausting her, Gwen's worried chattering seemed to have gone on forever.

Just as she took a step in the direction of Hunith's home the door swung open and Arthur stepped outside, playfully bumping shoulders with Merlin.

A relieved smile lit up her face and she started towards them.

Morgana watched as Arthur grabbed Guinevere's hand and laced his fingers with hers, gazing affectionately down at her.

Merlin laughed at something he'd said, his head thrown back.

It was funny, she didn't think she'd ever seen the three of them look so happy, or relaxed for that matter.

A genuine smile touched her lips as Merlin looked over at her, grinning excitedly.

She wasn't prepared for him to start jogging over, and she hurriedly turned her attention back to the restless mare at her side.

"Morgana." he greeted.

She turned, "Merlin. How was your talk with Arthur?"

He looked down at his feet, shuffling a toe in the dirt. "Well, actually. He says I'm to return to Camelot as well. Soon he's going to lift the ban on magic."

Startled she allowed herself to be pulled into a tight hug, her arms loosely draped around his shoulders.

He pulled back, smiling, eyes wide. "Sorry, I just, I think the fresh air is getting to me."

She laughed, brushing back a piece of hair that had fallen from her braid.

"It's all right."

There was a pause and she brushed a hand over the skirt of the grey dress Hunith had lent her, fidgeting.

"Merlin, I want to say thank you. For saving me from the pyre, for exposing yourself like that. I know Arthur has forgiven you, but it was a risk. You didn't have to."

"Yes I did."

She looked up to see his expression set and firm.

He took her hand and squeezed it tight with his. "I would do it again if I had to."

"Truly?"

"Truly. Your life means, it means a lot to me Morgana. I regret hurting you more than anything. I wish there was some way I could make it up to you."

He released his hold and looked down, shamed.

For a moment she allowed the grudges and resentment to slip from her mind and touched his chin with her finger, tilting his head to look into her eyes.

"Time." she murmured. "Time makes all the difference."

* * *

Morgana stood solemnly beside Hunith as the trio checked their horses and prepared to leave, a deep tension running amongst the ground.

It was like smoke, moving between them, drifting up and into their eyes.

Merlin couldn't stop his gaze from constantly flickering to Morgana, watching as she clasped her hands at the waist and looked from Athur to Guinevere.

He was surprised she hadn't said goodbye to him.

Their moment together earlier had seemed so signifigant, and now she seemed so utterly aloof.

He wanted to speak to her, more than anything he wanted to run up and demand she tell him why she was acting so strangely.

He glanced at Arthur who was standing to the side, speaking in hushed tones with Gwen, oblivious to his inner conflict.

His mother caught his eye and tipped her chin at Morgana, nodding encouragingly.

Morgana stared, unseeing, in the direction of the woods as he approached.

He cleared his throat and she jumped, eyes wide as she looked up at him.

"Merlin."

"Morgana. May I speak with you?" he gestured towards the house.

Her brows furrowed with confusion but she consented, stepping uncertainly away from Hunith.

His childhood home was quiet, only the snap of the fire to break the unsettling silence.

She turned, her hands clenched around the fabric of her simple black skirts.

"What is it you wanted to speak of Merlin?" she mumbled.

He sighed, fingering a straw doll resting on the mantle place.

It was singed in some spots and he remembered when he'd set it alight as a babe, his first experience using his magic.

He wonderered what Morgana's was.

"I just, wanted to say goodbye." he murmured softly.

Her lips quirked slightly, a ghost of a smile.

"I see. Could we not have said our farewells outside?" she asked.

He shook his head, stepping closer, cheeks flushed at their close proximity.

"No."

Even with his head bowed, chin nearly touching his chest, he stood taller than her, looking down on her head of dark curls.

She looked up, her blue green eyes wide as his hands rose to touch her face.

"The day I arrived in Camelot, I walked in on you." she frowned. "You thought I was Gwen. And I let you because while you jabbered on about Arthur, I couldn't stop thinking that you were the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen."

She blushed.

Morgana had been told her whole life how beautiful she was, how her hair gleamed like a raven's wing, how her eyes were like those of gems, how her skin was as white as snow.

There were niceties, things she expected to hear.

But in that moment, looking into his pale blue eyes she believed he meant it more than anyone ever had.

His thumbs stroked the apples of her cheeks and she tilted her head closer, his lips coming down upon hers.

Tentative and unsure he pulled back, eyes fluttering.

She smiled up from beneath her thick black lashes, her hands reached up to pull his face closer.

"One day, I will forgive you." she whispered.

His arms dropped to encircle her waist, pulling her flush against him.

Her lips were soft and supple as they moved against his, greedily, hungrily.

She'd never wanted someone so desperately as she wanted him, her body hummed with the magic she held beneath the surface of her skin, calling to his.

His hands roamed from the small of her back to her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair.

Like calls to like.

* * *

She emerged from the house first, lips swollen, face flushed.

She scurried to Hunith's side, glad that Arthur was still distracted by Gwen.

Merlin came second, concealing his smile with a poorly attempted frown as he hurried to his mount.

He checked the stirrups and swung into the saddle, clearing his throat in an effort to gain his friends' attention.

Arthur nodded and handed his reins to Gwen, walking slowly towards Hunith and his sister.

Morgana frowned, they'd already said their goodbyes.

He pulled her into a tight, unexpected embrace, his face burrowed in her shoulder.

"I will see you soon sister, I swear it." he pulled back, smiling. "And one day, I will see you in the halls of Camelot once more."

His voice was so firm, so filled with conviction, she couldn't help but believe him.

She nodded her head and hugged him once more, pushing him gently in the direction of the horses.

Hunith bit her lip beside her, reaching out to bump Morgana's hip with her hand.

She looked up, startled, to see the tears pooled in her eyes and the shaking fingers held out towards her.

Hesitantly, Morgana took her hand.

Hunith squeezed it fiercely, smiling down at her new ward.

Morgana managed to force a smile in return, looking back to the group as they each rose a hand in farewell.

Their horses wheeled about in a flourish and they spurred them into a gallop, dissapearing into the tree line.

For a moment Morgana stood watching the spot where they'd gone, her fingers unconsciously moving to touch her bruised lips.

When would she see him next?

How long would it be until she felt that spark run through her blood again?


End file.
